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«_y^otes,  Glossary, 
Critical   C?on\nr\ci\jts, 
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ThyQ    Ur\ivQr»si^y  Society 
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Copyright,    1901 

By 

THE    UNIVERSITY    SOCIETY 


THE 
LIFE  AND   DEATH   OF   KING   JOHN. 

Preface. 

The  First  Edition.  King  John  was  first  printed  in  the 
First  Folio,  where  it  occupies  the  first  place  in  the  di- 
vision of  '  Histories.'  The  ten  plays  belonging  to  this 
series  form  as  it  were  a  great  national  Epic  on  the  crises 
in  English  History  from  the  reign  of  Richard  H.  to  that 
of  Richard  HI.,  with  King  John  and  Henry  VHI.  re- 
spectively as  the  Prologue  and  Epilogue  of  the  whole. 
The  Editors  of  the  Folio  were  guided  absolutely  by 
chronological  sequence  in  their  arrangement  of  these 
plays:   hence  the  place  of  King  John. 

Source  of  the  Play.  Shakespeare's  King  John  is  a 
recast  of  an  older  play  entitled  '  The  Troublesome  Raigne 
of  John,  King  of  England'  printed  for  the  first  time  in 
1591,  and  again  in  161 1  and  1622.  It  is  significant  that 
the  title-page  of  the  161 1  edition  states  that  the  play  was 
'  written  by  IV.  Sh.' ;  in  the  later  edition  boldly  expanded 
to  *  JV.  Shakespeare.'"^  '  The  Troublesome  Raigne  '  may 
safely  be  assigned  to  about  the  year  1589,  with  its 
pseudo-Marlowan  lyrical  note  and  classical  frippery  so 
common  in  the  plays  of  the  period,  e.g. : — 

"  The  whistling  leaves  upon  the  trembling  trees. 
Whistle  in  concert  I  am  Richard's  son: 

*  Cp.  Shakespeare  Quarto  Facsimiles,  ed.  by  Dr.  F.  J.  Furnivall, 
Vols.  40,  41  {Hazlitt's  Shakespeare  Library ;  Nichols'  Six  Old 
Plays,  etc.). 


COLLEGi 

LIBRARY 


Preface  THE  LIFE  AND 

The  bubbling  murmur  of  the  water's  fall. 

Records  Philip  pus  Regius  Ulius: 

Birds  in  their  flight  make  music  with  their  wings, 

Filling  the  air  with  glory  of  my  birth: 

Birds,  bubbles,  leaves,  and  mountains,  echo,  all 

Ring  in  mine  ears,  that  I  am  Richard's  son."  * 

The  old  "  two-sectioned  "  play  may  be  described  as 
the  work  of  an  imitator  of  Marlowe  clinging  to  pre- 
Marlowan  versification  and  diction  and  clownage. 

It  has  many  of  the  faults  of  the  older  Chronicle  plays, 
as  opposed  to  the  Historical  Dramas;  chiefly  note- 
worthy are: — (i.)  there  is  no  hero;  (ii.)  no  one  in  whom 
one  can  take  interest,  except  perhaps  Faulconbridge; 
(iii.)  its  Anti-Romish  spirit,  which  is  at  times  harsh  in  the 
extreme;  (iv.)  the  doggerel  character  of  much  of  its 
dialogue.  On  the  other  hand,  the  old  playwright's  treat- 
ment of  his  materials  shows  considerable  merit,  and  to 
him  belongs  the  invention  of  Faulconbridge, f  and  his 
mother,  his  avoidance  of  Constance's  re-marriages,  im- 
portant modifications  in  Holinshed's  characters  of  Ar- 
thur, of  Limoges,  etc.;  while  the  comic  scene  where  the 
Bastard  finds  the  nun  locked  up  in  the  Prior's  chest  '  to 
hide  her  from  lay  men,'  and  then  discovers  '  Friar  Law- 
rence '  locked  up  in  the  ancient  nun's  chest,  must,  as 

*'The  Troublesome  Raigne '  must  be  carefully  distinguished 
from  Bale's  ' Kynge  Johan'  (about  1548,  printed  by  the  Camden 
Society,  ed.  by  J,  P.  Collier),  which  holds  an  interesting  place  in 
the  history  of  Bale's  attempt  to  build  a  Protestant  drama  on  the 
ruins  of  the  Catholic  Mystery  {cp.  Herford's  Literary  Relations  of 
England  and  Germayiy  in  the  xvi.  cent.,  ch.  iii.).  Shakespeare  had 
certainly  never  seen  this  play. 

fMr.  Watkiss  Lloyd  suggested  that  some  of  Faulconbridge's 
characteristics  were  got  from  that  raptarius  nequissimus  and  bas- 
tard, Falco  de  Brenta,— or  Foukes  de  Brent,  as  Holinshed  calls 
him, — who  though  he  was  one  of  the  Barons  who  wrested  Magna 
Charta  from  King  John,  yet  gave  him  great  help  in  his  fight  with 
his  Barons,  and  backed  his  son  against  Lewis. 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Preface 

Dr.  Furnivall  puts  it,  have  been  very  telling  on  the 
Elizabethan  stage;  ''you  can  fancy  the  audience's 
chuckles  over  it."  Fi.ially,  it  must  be  mentioned  that 
the  patrioti<;  tone  of  Shakespeare's  play  re-echoes  the 
sentiment  of  his  original:  especially  striking  are  the 
closing  words  of  '  The  Troublesome  Raigne '  which  have 
remained  almost  intact  in  the  recast: — 

'' '  Thus  England's  peace  begins  in  Henry's  reign 
And  bloody  wars  are  closed  with  happy  league, 
Let  England  live  but  true  within  itself, 
And  all  the  world  can  never  wrong  her  state. 
Lewis  thou  shalt  be  bravely  shipped  to  France 
For  never  Frenchman  got  of  English  ground 
The  twentieth  part  that  thou  hast  conquered. 

If  England's  peers  and  people  join  in  one, 

Nor  Pope,  nor  France,  nor  Spain,  can  do  them  wrong." 

*  King  John'   and   *The  Troublesome   Raigne.'     In 

comparing  the  two  plays  we  note  the  following  more 
striking  points: — (i.)  Shakespeare  has  compressed  the 
ten  acts  of  his  original  into  five,*  though  he  only  omits 
four  entire  scenes,  and  introduces  but  one  new  one  (at 
the  end  of  Act  IV.) :  (ii.)  there  is  hardly  a  single  Hne  in 
the  two  plays  exactly  alike;  by  a  mere  touch,  the  re- 
arrangement of  the  words,  the  omission  of  a  mono- 
syllable, and  the  like,  Shakespeare  has  alchemized  mere 
dross:  (iii.)  Shakespeare,  for  the  most  part,  follows  the 
older  play  in  its  treatment  of  historical  fact,t  but  he  de- 
parts therefrom  noticeably  in  representing  Arthur  as  a 
child:  (iv.)  certain  characters  of  the  play  as  well  as  stri- 
king  incidents   have   been   elaborated   and   refined,    e.g. 

*  Much  actually  takes  place  in  The  Troublesome  Raigne  which 
Shakespeare  merely  speaks  of,  e.g.  there  is  a  scene  in  which  the 
five  '  moons'  actually  appear. 

t  Surprise  is  often  expressed  at  the  omission  of  all  mention  of 
the  Magna  Charta  in  Shakespeare's  play,  but  it  is  due  in  the  first 
instance  to  the  author  of  The  Troublesome  Raigne. 


Preface  THE  LIFE  AND 

Constance,*  Hubert,  Pandulph,  and  especially  Faulcon- 
bridge,  whose  character  Shakespeare  has  rendered 
consistent  and  ennobled ;  he  makes  him  not  merely  the 
central  character,  but  also  a  sort  of  Chorus,  of  the  play, 
giving  vent  to  sentiments  of  truest  patriotism,  and 
enunciating  the  highest  national  interests, — an  embodi- 
ment of  the  typical  EngHshman,  plain,  blunt,  honest, 
and  loyal:  (v.)  Shakespeare  omits  altogether  the  coarse 
comic  scenes  which,  in  the  older  play,  detract  from  the 
dignity  of  the  historical  surroundings:  (vi.)  the  two  plays 
have  the  same  fault  in  having  no  hero;  John  is  not  the 
hero  of  King  John. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  three  points  in  Shake- 
speare's play  not  as  clear  as  in  the  original: — (i.)  Faul- 
conbridge's  hatred  of  Austria:  (ii.)  his  anger  at  the 
betrothal  of  Blanch  to  the  Dauphin:  (iii.)  the  reason 
why  the  monk  poisoned  King  John.  The  old  play  ex- 
plains clearly  (i.)  that  Austria  had  been  cruel  to  Coeur- 
de-Lion:  (ii.)  that  Blanch  had  previously  been  betrothed 
to  Faulconbridge:  (iii.)  that  John  '  contemned  '  the  Pope, 
and  never  loved  a  Friar;  (cp.  Shakespeare  as  an  adapter, 
Edward  Rose,  Preface  to  Troublesome  Raigne,  Part  i.; 
Forezvords  to  Troublesome  Raigne,  Part  ii..  Dr.  Furnivall; 
Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare,  Watkiss 
Lloyd;  Commentaries  on  the  Historical  Plays  of  Shake- 
speare, Courtney;  Warner's  English  History  in  Shake- 
speare (Longman,  1894,  etc.). 

*  The  famous  scene  of  Constance's  Lament  (Act  III.  Sc.  iv.) 
was  evolved  from  the  following  crude  original : — 
"My  tongue  is  tuned  to  story  forth  mishap: 
When  did  I  breathe  to  tell  a  pleasing  tale? 
Must  Constance  speak?    Let  tears  prevent  her  talk. 
Must  I  discourse?    Let  Dido  sigh,  and  say 
She  weeps  again  to  hear  the  zvrack  of  Troy: 
Two  words  will  serve,  and  then  my  tale  is  done — 
Elinor's  proud  brat  hath  robbed  me  of  my  son." 
Similarly,  the  scene  in  which  John  suggests  to  Hubert  his  mur- 
derous design  is  based  on  a  mere  hint  of  the  older  play. 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Preface 


Date  of  Composition.  King  John  is  mentioned  by 
Meres  in  his  Palladis  Tamia  (1598).  From  internal  evi- 
dence, it  belongs  to  the  same  group  as  Richard  II.  and 
Richard  III.,  especially  in  the  characteristic  absence  of 
prose.  The  large  amount  of  rhyme  in  Richard  II.  makes 
it,  in  all  probability,  anterior  to  Kiiig  John.  The  play 
may  safely  be  dated  c.  1595. 

Duration  of  Action.  The  time  of  the  play  occupies 
seven  days,  with  intervals  comprising  in  all  not  more 
than  three  or  four  months.  The  historical  time  covers 
the  whole  of  King  John's  reign. 


Royal  Arms  of  England  in  the  time  of  John. 


THE  LIFE  AND 


Critical  Comments. 
I. 

Argument. 

I,  After  the  death  of  Richard  Coeur-de-Lion,  the 
throne  of  England  is  seized  by  his  brother  John  from 
the  feeble  grasp  of  their  nephew  Arthur,  the  rightful 
heir.  King  PhiHp  of  P>ance  supports  the  claims  of 
Arthur,  and  menaces  England  with  war;  whereupon 
King  John  plans  an  invasion  of  France,  and  chooses  as 
one  of  his  generals  a  natural  son  of  Coeur-de-Lion,  whom 
he  creates  Sir  Richard  Plantagenet. 

IL  The  English  troops  encounter  the  French  forces 
before  the  city  of  Anglers — an  English  possession, 
which,  however,  refuses  to  open  its  gates  to  either  king 
till  the  succession  of  the  English  tnrone  be  determined 
upon.  The  two  sovereigns  fight  a  battle  without  de- 
cisive result,  and  afterwards  propose  a  treaty  of  peace. 
A  niece  of  John  is  given  in  marriage  to  the  French  Dau- 
phin. The  treaty  results  in  an  acquisition  of  English 
territory  on  the  part  of  Philip,  who  is  thereby  disaffected 
to  the  cause  of  Arthur. 

IIL  King  John  refuses  to  bow  to  the  authority  of 
the  Pope,  and  the  latter  excommunicates  him.  The 
papal  legate  incites  Philip  to  break  the  treaty.  War  is 
resumed.  The  French  are  defeated  in  a  general  en- 
gagement, and  Arthur  is  taken  prisoner  by  his  uncle, 
who  gives  secret  orders  that  he  be  put  to  death. 

IV.  Upon  the  return  of  John  to  England,  Hubert,  a 
courtier,  is  instructed  to  burn  out  Arthur's  eyes;  but 
the  young  prince's  entreaties  so  soften  Hubert's  heart 

6 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Comments 

that  he  ventures  to  disobey  the  cruel  mandate.  Soon 
after  Arthur  attempts  to  escape  from  the  castle  where 
he  is  confined,  by  leaping  from  the  battlements.  The 
leap  kills  him,  and  his  mangled  body  is  found  by  some 
discontented  nobles.  They  believe  him  to  have  been 
murdered  by  the  King's  command,  and  are  confirmed 
in  their  purpose  of  deserting  John  and  joining  their 
strength  with  that  of  the  Dauphin,  who,  armed  with 
papal  approval,  is  invading  England. 

V,  The  timid  heart  of  John  yields  at  this  evidence  of 
the  Pope's  wrath  and  power.  He  surrenders  his  au- 
thority to  the  papal  legate,  thinking  thus  to  arrest  the 
French  invasion.  But  the  Dauphin,  urged  by  successes 
and  claiming  the  English  throne  through  his  wife,  con- 
tinues to  press  forward.  The  English  troops  are  mus- 
tered by  Plantagenet,  who  valiantly  battles  with  the 
French.  The  issue  of  the  fray  remains  in  doubt,  each 
side  having  met  with  severe  losses  through  outside  and 
natural  causes.  The  English  nobles  who  had  joined 
with  the  Dauphin  now  desert  him,  and  he  is  disposed  to 
terms  of  peace,  which  are  willingly  hstened  to  by  the 
enfeebled  EngHsh.  During  the  battle  John  has  been 
removed  in  a  state  of  illness  to  an  abbey,  where  he  is 
poisoned  by  a  monk.  Upon  his  death,  his  son  Henry 
in.  ascends  the  throne. 

McSpadden  :  Shakespearian  Synopses. 


II. 

Philip  the  Bastard. 

The  character  that  bears  the  weight  of  the  piece,  as 
an  acting  play,  is  the  illegitimate  son  of  Richard  Cceur- 
de-Lion,  Philip  Faulconbridge.  He  is  John  Bull  him- 
self in  the  guise  of  a  mediaeval  knight,  equipped  with 
great  strength  and  a  racy  English  humour,  not  the  wit 
of  a  Mercutio,  a  gay  Italianising  cavalier,  but  the  irre- 


Comments  THE  LIFE  AND 

pressible  ebullitions  of  rude  health  and  blunt  gaiety  be- 
fitting an  English  Hercules.  The  scene  in  the  first  act, 
in  which  he  appears  along  with  his  brother,  who  seeks  to 
deprive  him  of  his  inheritance  as  a  Faulconbridge  on 
the  ground  of  his  alleged  illegitimacy,  and  the  subse- 
quent scene  with  his  mother,  from  whom  he  tries  to 
wring  the  secret  of  his  paternity,  both  appear  in  the  old 
play;  but  in  it  everything  that  the  Bastard  says  is  in 
grim  earnest — the  embroidery  of  wit  belongs  to  Shake- 
speare alone.  It  is  he  who  has  placed  in  Faulconbridge's 
mouth  such  sayings  as  this  : — 

"  Madam,  I  was  not  old  Sir  Robert's  son: 
Sir  Robert  might  have  eat  his  part  in  me 
Upon  Good  Friday,  and  ne'er  broke  his  fast." 

And  it  is  quite  in  Shakespeare's  spirit  when  the  son, 
after  her  confession,  thus  consoles  his  mother: — 

"  Madam,  I  would  not  wish  a  better  father. 
Some  sins  do  bear  their  privilege  on  earth, 
And  so  doth  yours." 

In  later  years,  at  a  time  when  his  outlook  upon  life  was 
darkened,  Shakespeare  accounted  for  the  villany  of 
Edmund,  in  King  Lear,  and  for  his  aloofness  from  any- 
thing like  normal  humanity,  on  the  ground  of  his  irregu- 
lar birth;  in  the  Bastard  of  this  play,  on  the  contrary, 
his  aim  was  to  present  a  picture  of  all  that  health,  vigour, 
and  full-blooded  vitality  which  popular  belief  attributes 
to  a  "  love-child." 

Faulconbridge  is  at  first  full  of  youthful  insolence,  the 
true  mediaeval  nobleman,  who  despises  the  burgess  class 
simply  as  such.  When  the  inhabitants  of  Anglers  refuse 
to  open  their  gates  either  to  King  John  or  to  King 
Philip  of  France,  who  has  espoused  the  cause  of  Arthur, 
the  Bastard  is  so  indignant  at  this  peace-loving  circum- 
spection that  he  urges  the  kings  to  join  their  forces 
against  the  unlucky  town,  and  cry  truce  to  their  feud 

8 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Comments 

until  the  ramparts  are  levelled  to  the  earth.  But  in  the 
course  of  the  action  he  ripens  more  and  more,  and  dis- 
plays ever  greater  and  more  estimable  qualities — hu- 
manity, right-mindedness,  and  a  fidelity  to  the  King 
which  does  not  interfere  with  generous  freedom  of 
speech  towards  him. 

His  method  of  expression  is  always  highly  imagina- 
tive, more  so  than  that  of  the  other  male  characters  in 
the  play.  Even  the  most  abstract  ideas  he  personifies. 
Thus  he  talks  (III.  i.)  of— 

"  Old  Time,  the  clock-setter,  that  bald  sexton  Time." 

In  the  old  play  whole  scenes  are  devoted  to  his  execu- 
tion of  the  task  here  allotted  him  of  visiting  the  monas- 
teries of  England  and  lightening  the  abbots'  bursting 
money-bags.  Shakespeare  has  suppressed  these  ebulli- 
tions of  an  anti-Catholic  fervour,  which  he  did  not  share. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  has  endowed  Faulconbridge  with 
genuine  moral  superiority.  At  first  he  is  only  a  cheery, 
fresh-natured,  robust  personality,  who  tramples  upon 
all  social  conventions,  phrases,  and  affectations ;  and  in- 
deed he  preserves  to  the  last  something  of  that  contempt 
for  "  cockered  silken  wantons  "  which  Shakespeare  after- 
wards elaborates  so  magnificently  in  Henry  Percy.  But 
there  is  real  greatness  in  his  attitude  when,  at  the  close 
of  the  play,  he  addresses  the  vacillating  John  in  this 
manly  strain  (V.  i.) : — 

"  Let  not  the  world  see  fear,  and  sad  distrust, 
Govern  the  motion  of  a  kingly  eye  : 
Be  stirring  as  the  time ;  be  fire  with  fire ; 
Threaten  the  threatener,  and  outface  the  brow 
Of  bragging  horror :    so  shall  inferior  eyes, 
That  borrow  their  behaviours  from  the  great, 
Grow  great  by  your  example,  and  put  on 
The  dauntless  spirit  of  resolution," 

Brandes:    William  Shakespeare. 


Comments  THE  LIFE  AND 

III. 

John. 

The  king  reigns  neither  by  warrant  of  a  just  title,  nor, 
like  Bolingbroke,  by  warrant  of  the  right  of  the  strong- 
est. He  knows  that  his  house  is  founded  upon  the  sand; 
he  knows  that  he  has  no  justice  of  God  and  no  virtue  of 
man  on  which  to  rely.  Therefore  he  assumes  an  air 
of  authority  and  regal  grandeur.  But  within  all  is  rot- 
tenness and  shame.  Unlike  the  bold  usurper  Richard, 
John  endeavours  to  turn  away  his  eyes  from  facts  of 
which  he  is  yet  aware;  he  dare  not  gaze  into  his  own 
wretched  and  cowardly  soul.  When  threatened  by 
France  with  war,  and  now  alone  with  his  mother,  John 
exclaims,  making  an  effort  to  fortify  his  heart: — 
"  Our  strong  possession  and  our  right  for  us." 

But  EHnor,  with  a  woman's  courage  and  directness,  for- 
bids the  unavailing  self-deceit: — 

"  Your  strong  possession  much  more  than  your  right, 
Or  else  it  must  go  wrong  with  you  and  me." 

King   Richard,   when   he   would   make   away   with   the 
young  princes,  summons  Tyrrel  to  his  presence,  and  in- 
quires, with  cynical  indifference  to  human  sentiment: — 
"Dar'st  thou  resolve  to  kill  a  friend  of  mine?" 

and  when  Tyrrel  accepts  the  commission,  Richard,  in  a 
moment  of  undisguised  exultation,  breaks  forth  with 
"  Thou  sing'st  sweet  music !  "  John  would  inspire  Hu- 
bert with  his  murderous  purpose  rather  Hke  some  vague 
influence  than  like  a  personal  will,  obscurely  as  some 
pale  mist  works  which  creeps  across  the  fields,  and 
leaves  bUght  behind  it  in  the  sunshine.  He  trembles  lest 
he  should  have  said  too  much;  he  trembles  lest  he  should 
not  have  said  enough;  at  last  the  nearer  fear  prevails, 
and  the  words  "  death,"  ''  a  grave,"  form  themselves 
upon  his  lips.    Having  touched  a  spring  which  will  pro- 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Commenis 

duce  assassination,  he  furtively  withdraws  himself  from 
the  mechanism  of  crime.  It  suits  the  King's  interest 
afterwards  that  Arthur  should  be  living,  and  John  adds 
to  his  crime  the  baseness  of  a  miserable  attempt  by  chi- 
canery and  timorous  sophisms  to  transfer  the  responsi- 
bility of  murder  from  himself  to  his  instrument  and  ac- 
complice. He  would  fain  darken  the  eyes  of  his  con- 
science and  of  his  understanding. 

The  show  of  kingly  strength  and  dignity  in  which 
John  is  clothed  in  the  earlier  scenes  of  the  play  must 
therefore  be  recognized  (although  Shakspere  does  not 
obtrude  the  fact)  as  no  more  than  a  poor  pretence  of 
true  regal  strength  and  honour.  The  fact,  only  hinted  in 
these  earlier  scenes,  becomes  afterwards  all  the  more 
impressive,  when  the  time  comes  to  show  this  dastard 
king,  who  had  been  so  great  in  the  barter  of  territory, 
in  the  sale  of  cities,  in  the  sacrifice  of  love  and  marriage- 
truth  to  policy,  now  changing  from  pale  to  red  in  the 
presence  of  his  own  nobles,  now  vainly  trying  to  tread 
back  the  path  of  crime,  now  incapable  of  enduring  the 
physical  suffering  of  the  hour  of  death.  Sensible  that 
he  is  a  king  with  no  inward  strength  of  justice  or  of 
virtue,  John  endeavours  to  buttress  up  his  power  with 
external  supports;  against  the  advice  of  his  nobles  he 
celebrates  a  second  coronation,  only  forthwith  to  re- 
move the  crown  from  his  head  and  place  it  in  the  hands 
of  an  Italian  priest. 

Dowden:    Shakspere. 

IV. 

Constance. 

We  have  seen  that  in  the  mother  of  Coriolanus,  the 
principal  qualities  are  exceeding  pride,  self-will,  strong 
maternal  affection,  great  power  of  imagination,  and 
energy  of  temper.  Precisely  the  same  qualities  enter 
into  the  mind  of  Constance  of  Bretagne ;  but  in  her  these 

II 


Comments  THE  LIFE  AND 

qualities  are  so  differently  modified  by  circumstances 
and  education,  that  not  even  in  fancy  do  we  think  of 
instituting  a  comparison  between  the  Gothic  grandeur 
of  Constance  and  the  more  severe  and  classical  dignity 
of  the  Roman  matron. 

The  scenes  and  circumstances  with  which  Shak- 
speare  has  surrounded  Constance,  are  strictly  faithful 
to  the  old  chronicles,  and  are  as  vividly  as  they  are 
accuratel}'  represented.  On  the  other  hand,  the  hints 
on  which  the  character  has  been  constructed,  are  few 
and  vague;  but  the  portrait  harmonizes  so  wonderfully 
with  its  historic  background,  and  with  all  that  later  re- 
searches have  discovered  relative  to  the  personal  ad- 
ventures of  Constance,  that  I  have  not  the  slightest 
doubtful  of  its  individual  truth.  The  result  of  a  Hfe  of 
strange  vicissitude;  the  picture  of  a  tameless  will,  and 
high  passions,  forever  struggling  in  vain  against  a  supe- 
rior power;  and  the  real  situation  of  women  in  those 
chivalrous  times,  are  placed  before  us  in  a  few  noble 
scenes.  The  manner  in  which  Shakspeare  has  applied 
the  scattered  hints  of  history  to  the  formation  of  the 
character,  reminds  us  of  that  magician  who  collected 
the  mangled  limbs  which  had  been  dispersed  up  and 
down,  reunited  them  into  the  human  form,  and  reani- 
mated them  with  the  breathing  and  conscious  spirit  of 
life.     ... 

Constance  is  certainly  an  historical  personage ;  but  the 
form  which,  when  we  meet  it  on  the  record  of  history, 
appears  like  a  pale  indistinct  shadow,  half  melted  into 
its  obscure  background,  starts  before  us  into  a  strange 
reUef  and  palpable  breathing  reality  upon  the  page  of 
Shakspeare. 

Whenever  we  think  of  Constance,  it  is  in  her  maternal 
character.  All  the  interest  which  she  excites  in  the 
drama  turns  upon  her  situation  as  the  mother  of  Arthur. 
Every  circumstance  in  which  she  is  placed,  every  senti- 
ment she  utters,  has  a  reference  to  him;  and  she  is  rep- 
resented through  the  whole  of  the  scenes  in  which  she 

12 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Comments 

is  engaged  as  alternately  pleading  for  the  rights  and 
trembling  for  the  existence  of  her  son.     .     .     . 

But,  while  we  contemplate  the  character  of  Constance, 
she  assumes  before  us  an  individuality  perfectly  dis- 
tinct from  the  circumstances  around  her.  The  action 
calls  forth  her  maternal  feelings,  and  places  them  in  the 
most  prominent  point  of  view;  but  with  Constance,  as 
with  a  real  human  being,  the  maternal  affections  are  a 
powerful  instinct,  modified  by  oher  faculties,  sentiments, 
and  impulses,  making  up  the  individual  character.  We 
think  of  her  as  a  mother,  because,  as  a  mother  dis- 
tracted for  the  loss  of  her  son,  she  is  immediately  pre- 
sented before  us,  and  calls  forth  our  sympathy  and  our 
tears;  but  we  infer  the  rest  of  her  character  from  what 
we  see,  as  certainly  and  as  completely  as  if  we  had 
known  her  whole  course  of  life. 

That  which  strikes  us  as  the  principal  attribute  of 
Constance  is  pozver — power  of  imagination,  of  will, 
passion,  of  aflfection,  of  pride;  the  moral  energy,  that 
faculty  which  is  principally  exercised  in  self-control,  and 
gives  consistency  to  the  rest,  is  deficient;  or  rather,  to 
speak  more  correctly,  the  extraordinary  development  of 
sensibility  and  imagination,  which  lends  to  the  character 
its  rich  poetical  colouring,  leaves  the  other  qualities 
comparatively  subordinate.  Hence  it  is  that  the  whole 
complexion  of  the  character,  notwithstanding  its  ama- 
zing grandeur,  is  so  exquisitely  feminine.  The  weakness 
of  the  woman,  who  by  the  very  consciousness  of  that 
weakness  is  worked  up  to  desperation  and  defiance, 
the  fluctuations  of  temper  and  the  bursts  of  sublime  pas- 
sion, the  terrors,  the  impatience,  and  the  tears  are 
all  most  true  to  feminine  nature.  The  energy 
of  Constance  not  being  based  upon  strength  of  char- 
acter, rises  and  falls  with  the  tide  of  passion.  Her 
haughty  spirit  swells  against  resistance,  and  is  excited 
into  frenzy  by  sorrow  and  disappointment;  while  neither 
from  her  towering  pride  nor  her  strength  of  intellect 
can  she  borrow  patience  to  submit,  or  fortitude  to  en- 

13 


Comments  THE  LIFE  AND 

dure.  It  is,  therefore,  with  perfect  truth  of  nature,  that 
Constance  is  first  introduced  as  pleading  for  peace : — 

"  Stay  for  an  answer  to  your  embassy, 
Lest  unadvis'd  you  stain  your  swords  with  blood: 
My  Lord  Chatillon  may  from  England  bring 
That  right  in  peace,  which  here  we  urge  in  war; 
And  then  we  shall  repent  each  drop  of  blood 
That  hot,  rash  haste  so  indirectly  shed." 

And  that  the  same  woman,  when  all  her  passions  are 
roused  by  the  sense  of  injury,  should  afterwards  exclaim, 

"  War,  war !  no  peace !  peace  is  to  me  a  war !  " 

that  she  should  be  ambitious  for  her  son,  proud  of  his 
high  birth  and  royal  rights,  and  violent  in  defending 
them,  is  most  natural;  but  I  cannot  agree  with  those  who 
think  that  in  the  mind  of  Constance  ambition — that  is, 
the  love  of  dominion  for  its  own  sake — is  either  a  strong 
motive  or  a  strong  feeling;  it  could  hardly  be  so  where 
the  natural  impulses  and  the  ideal  power  predominate 
in  so  high  a  degree.  The  vehemence  with  which  she 
asserts  the  just  and  legal  rights  of  her  son  is  that  of  a 
fond  mother  and  a  proud-spirited  woman,  stung  with 
the  sense  of  injury,  and  herself  a  reigning  sovereign, 
— ^by  birth  and  right,  if  not  in  fact ;  yet  when  bereaved  of 
her  son,  grief  not  only  ''  fills  the  room  up  of  her  absent 
child,"  but  seems  to  absorb  every  other  faculty  and 
feeling — even  pride  and  anger.  It  is  true  that  she  exults 
over  him  as  one  whom  nature  and  fortune  had  destined 
to  be  great,  but  in  her  distraction  for  his  loss  she  thinks 
of  him  only  as  her  ''  Pretty  Arthur." 

"  O  lord !  my  boy,  my  Arthur,  my  fair  son ! 
My  life,  my  joy,  my  food,  my  all  the  world ! 
My  widow-comfort,  and  my  sorrow's  cure !  " 

No  other  feeling  can  be  traced  through  the  whole  of 
her  frantic  scene ;  it  is  grief  only — a  mother's  heart- 
rending,   soul-absorbing  grief — and   nothing   else.      Not 

14 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Comments 

even  indignation  or  the  desire  of  revenge  interferes  with 
its  soleness  and  intensity.  An  ambitious  woman  would 
hardly  have  thus  addressed  the  cold,  wily  Cardinal: — 

"  And,  Father  Cardinal,  I  have  heard  you  say, 
That  we  shall  see  and  know  our  friends  in  heaven,"  etc. 

The  bewildered  pathos  and  poetry  of  this  address 
could  be  natural  in  no  woman  who  did  not  unite,  Hke 
Constance,  the  most  passionate  sensibility  with  the  most 
vivid  imagination. 

It  is  true  that  Queen  Elinor  calls  her  on  one  occasion 
"  ambitious  Constance  "  ;  but  the  epithet  is  rather  the  nat- 
ural expression  of  Elinor's  own  fear  and  hatred  than 
really  appHcable.  Elinor,  in  whom  age  had  subdued  all 
passions  but  ambition,  dreaded  the  mother  of  Arthur 
as  her  rival  in  power,  and  for  that  reason  only  opposed 
the  claims  of  the  son;  but  I  conceive  that  in  a  woman 
yet  in  the  prime  of  hfe,  and  endued  with  the  pecuHar 
disposition  of  Constance,  the  mere  love  of  power 
would  be  too  much  modified  by  fancy  and  feehng  to  be 
called  a  passion. 

In  fact,  it  is  not  pride,  nor  temper,  nor  ambition,  nor 
even  maternal  affection  which  in  Constance  gives  the 
prevaiHng  tone  to  the  whole  character;  it  is  the  predomi- 
nance of  imagination.  I  do  not  mean  in  the  conception 
of  the  dramatic  portrait,  but  in  the  temperament  of  the 
woman  herself.  In  the  poetical,  fanciful,  excitable  cast 
of  her  mind,  in  the  excess  of  the  ideal  power,  tinging  all 
her  affections,  exalting  all  her  sentiments  and  thoughts, 
and  animating  the  expression  of  both,  Constance  can 
only  be  compared  to  Juliet. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  through  the  power  of  imagina- 
tion that  when  under  the  influence  of  excited  temper, 
Constance  is  not  a  mere  incensed  woman;  nor  does  she, 
in  the  style  of  Volumnia,  *'  lament  in  anger,  Juno-Hke," 
but  rather  like  a  sibyl  in  a  fury.  Her  sarcasms  come 
down  hke  thunderbolts.  In  her  famous  address  to  Au- 
stria— 

IS 


Comments  THE  LIFE  AND 

"  O  Lymoges !  O  Austria  !  thou  dost  shame 
That  bloody  spoil !  thou  slave !  thou  wretch  !  thou  coward !  "  etc. 

it  is  as  if  she  had  concentrated  the  burning  spirit  of 
scorn,  and  dashed  it  in  his  face;  every  word  seems  to 
blister  where  it  falls.  In  the  scolding  scene  between  her 
and  Queen  Elinor,  the  laconic  insolence  of  the  latter  is 
completely  overborne  by  the  torrent  of  bitter  contumely 
which  bursts  from  the  lips  of  Constance,  clothed  in  the 
most  energetic,  and  often  in  the  most  figurative  ex- 
pressions.    .     .     . 

And  in  a  very  opposite  mood,  when  struggling  with 
the  consciousness  of  her  own  helpless  situation,  the  same 
susceptible  and  excitable  fancy  still  predominates : — 

"  Thou  shalt  be  punish'd  for  thus  frighting  me : 
For  I  am  sick,  and  capable  of  fears; 
Oppressed  with  wrongs,  and  therefore  full  of  fears. 
A  widow,  husbandless,  subject  to  fears; 
A  woman,  naturally  born  to  fears ; 
And  though  thou  now  confess  thou  didst  but  jest 
With  my  vexed  spirits,  I  cannot  take  a  truce, 
But  they  will  quake  and  tremble  all  this  day." 

It  is  the  power  of  imagination  which  gives  so  peculiar 
a  tinge  to  the  maternal  tenderness  of  Constance;  she 
not  only  loves  her  son  with  the  fond  instinct  of  a 
mother's  affection,  but  she  loves  him  with  her  poetical 
imagination,  exults  in  his  beauty  and  his  royal  birth, 
hangs  over  him  with  idolatry,  and  sees  his  infant 
brow  already  encircled  with  the  diadem.  Her  proud 
spirit,  her  ardent  enthusiastic  fancy,  and  her  energetic 
self-will,  all  combine  with  her  maternal  love  to  give  it 
that  tone  and  character  which  belongs  to  her  only.     .     . 

Constance,  who  is  a  majestic  being,  is  majestic  in  her 
very  frenzy.  Majesty  is  also  the  characteristic  of  Her- 
mione;  but  with  a  difference  between  her  silent,  lofty, 
uncomplaining  despair,  and  the  eloquent  grief  of  Con- 
stance, whose  wild  lamentations,  which  come  bursting 

i6 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Comments 

forth  clothed  in  the  grandest,  the  most  poetical  imagery, 
not  only  melt,  but  absolutely  electrify  us! 

On  the  whole,  it  may  be  said  that  pride  and  maternal 
affection  form  the  basis  of  the  character  of  Constance, 
as  it  is  exhibited  to  us ;  but  that  these  passions,  in  an 
equal  degree  common  to  many  human  beings,  assume 
their  peculiar  and  individual  tinge  from  an  extraordinary 
development  of  intellect  and  fancy.  It  is  the  energy  of 
passion  which  lends  the  character  its  concentrated 
power,  as  it  is  the  prevalence  of  imagination  throughout 
which  dilates  it  into  magnificence. 

Some  of  the  most  splendid  poetry  to  be  met  with  in 
Shakspeare,  may  be  found  in  the  parts  of  Juhet  and 
Constance;  the  most  splendid,  perhaps,  excepting  only 
the  parts  of  Lear  and  Othello;  and  for  the  same  reason, 
that  Lear  and  Othello  as  men,  and  Juliet  and  Constance 
as  women,  are  distinguished  by  the  predominance  of  the 
same  faculties — passion  and  imagination. 

Mrs.  Jameson:  Characteristics  of  Women. 

V. 

Arthur. 

As  Shakespeare  used  the  allowable  license  of  art  in 
stretching  the  life  of  Constance  beyond  its  actual  date, 
that  he  might  enrich  his  work  with  the  eloquence  of  a 
mother's  love;  so  he  took  a  like  freedom  in  making  Ar- 
thur younger  than  he  really  was,  that  he  might  in  larger 
measure  pour  in  the  sweetness  of  childish  innocence  and 
wit.  At  all  events,  we  cannot  in  either  case  blame  the 
fault,  if  it  be  one,  the  issue  of  it  being  so  proper.  And  in 
Arthur  he  gained  thereby  the  further  advantage,  that 
the  sparing  of  his  eyes  is  owing  to  his  potency  of  tongue 
and  the  awful  might  of  unresisting  gentleness ;  whereas 
in  actual  history  he  is  indebted  for  this  to  his  strength 
of  arm.  The  Arthur  of  the  play  is  an  artless,  gentle, 
natural-hearted,   but  high-spirited  and  eloquent  boy,   in 

17 


Comments  THE  LIFE  AND 

whom  we  have  the  voice  of  nature  pleading  for  nature's 
rights,  unrestrained  by  pride  of  character  or  of  place; 
who  at  first  braves  his  uncle,  because  set  on  to  do  so  by 
his  mother,  and  afterwards  fears  him,  yet  knows  not 
why,  because  his  heart  is  too  full  of  the  holiness  of 
youth  to  conceive  how  anything  so  treacherous  and  un- 
natural can  be^  as  that  which  he  fears.  In  his  dying 
speech — "  O  me!  my  uncle's  spirit  is  in  these  stones  " — ■ 
our  impression  against  John  is  most  artfully  heightened, 
all  his  foregoing  inhumanity  being,  as  it  were,  gathered 
and  concentrated  into  an  echo.  Of  the  scene  between 
him  and  Hubert,  when  he  learns  the  order  to  put  out 
his  eyes,  Hazlitt  justly  says:  "  If  anything  ever  were 
penned,  heart-piercing,  mixing  the  extremes  of  terror 
and  pity,  of  that  which  shocks  and  that  which  soothes 
the  mind,  it  is  this  scene."  Yet  even  here  the  tender 
pathos  of  the  loving  and  lovely  boy  is  marred  by  arti- 
ficial conceits  and  prettinesses  which  we  cannot  believe 
Shakespeare  would  have  let  fall  in  his  best  days.  The 
Poet  has  several  times  thrown  the  sweet  witchery  of  his 
genius  into  pictures  of  nursery  life,  bringing  children 
upon  the  scene,  and  delighting  us  with  their  innocent 
archness  and  sweet-witted  prattle,  as  in  case  of  Her- 
mione  and  Mamillius  in  The  Winter's  Tale,  and  of  Lady 
Macduff  and  her  son  in  Macbeth;  but  the  part  of  Arthur 
is  by  far  his  most  charming  and  powerful  thing  in  that 
line.  That  his  glorious,  manly  heart  loved  to  make 
childhood  its  playmate,  cannot  be  doubted. 

Hudson:   The  Works  of  Shakespeare. 

VL 

Pandulph. 

Pandulph,  the  legate,  stands  in  group  with  the  feudal 
princes  like  the  representative  of  the  adult  fraud  and 
heartlessness  of  priestcraft;  the  inheritor  of  high  facul- 
ties   cultivated    to    refined    ill    purposes    from    the    old 

i8 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Comments 

Roman  pontifices;  the  root  of  evil  living  among  the 
ashes  of  the  empire  and  springing  up  amongst  and 
poisoning  the  better  and  unsophisticated  tendencies  of 
the  northern  nations,  apprentices  in  civilization  it  is 
true  but  also  novices  in  deceit.  In  his  elaborate  ex- 
plaining away  of  perjury,  his  authorization  by  religious 
sanction  of  secret,  treacherous  murder  and  revolt,  and  in 
his  cold-blooded  complacency  as  he  speculates  on  the 
certain  murder  of  Arthur  if  dextrously  provoked  and  the 
advantages  to  result  to  Holy  Church  therefrom,  we  have 
most  striking  contrast  to  the  spirit  of  honour,  of  hatred 
of  cruelty,  and  of  compassion  for  the  weak  and  afflicted, 
that  characterizes  the  English  Barons.  The  power  of 
the  natural  affections  over  a  rude  nature  is  expressed 
most  glowingly  in  the  relenting  of  Hubert,  but  scarcely 
more  touchingly  than  by  the  tears  of  Salisbury  at  the 
distress  of  Constance,  or  in  his  bitterness  of  heart  at  his 
false  position  as  an  enemy: — 

"  Where  honourable  rescue  and  defence 
Calls  out  upon  the  name  of  Salisbury," 

and  by  the  generous  indignation  of  the  barons,  his  com- 
panions, and  of  Faulconbridge  no  less,  at  the  jeopardy 
and  murder  of  Arthur.  Formal  religion  is  arrayed  in  the 
person  of  its  official  minister  against  the  reHgion  of  hu- 
manity and  sympathy ;  and  the  corruption  of  an  artfully 
organized  administration  offends  the  spectator  by  as- 
suming the  honours  and  prerogatives  of  devotion  and 
piety,  when  at  war  with  all  the  feelings  that  by  their  es- 
sential qualities  and  in  their  own  right  are  properly  de- 
vout, moral  and  pious;  and  hence  neither  in  falling  off 
from  their  allegiance  nor  in  returning  to  it  do  the  barons 
admit  the  slightest  weight,  or  even  refer  to  the  authority 
of  Pandulph,  a  sign  of  the  future  which  is  quite  as  sig- 
nificant as  the  hankering  of  the  kings  and  nobles  after 
ecclesiastical  hoards,  which  seconded  the  popular  move- 
ment so  efficiently  at  last. 
Lloyd  :  Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare, 

19 


Comments  THE  LIFE  AND 

VII. 

Church  and  State. 

As  in  Coriolanus,  we  have  the  antique  state  in  conflict 
with  its  foundation,  the  family  bond  and  its  rights,  so  in 
King  John,  the  centre  of  the  action  lies  in  the  struggle 
between  the  mediaeval  state  and  its  one  basis,  the  church. 
As  the  latter  was  or  pretended  to  be  the  ideal  side  of 
political  life,  and  thus,  as  it  were,  the  ethos,  that  is,  the 
conscience  of  the  state,  this  struggle  is  first  of  all  re- 
flected in  John's  own  life  and  character;  we  have  it  ex- 
hibited in  the  perpetual  conflict  between  his  better  self, 
which  was  naturally  disposed  to  manly  dignity,  inde- 
pendence, and  quick  and  resolute  action,  and  his  ten- 
dency to  arbitrary  proceedings,  love  of  dominion  and 
pretension,  to  caprice  and  passionate  recklessness.  Be- 
ing in  conflict  with  himself,  his  naturally  discordant  dis- 
position degenerates  into  complete  inconsistency  and 
want  of  character.  Hence,  although  he  has  even  re- 
sorted to  murder,  he  cannot  maintain  his  tottering 
throne,  either  against  Arthur's  legitimate  claims,  or 
against  the  interferences  of  France  and  of  the  church. 
His  own  unjust  title  to  the  crown,  his  violence,  and  his 
inconsistent  and  arbitrary  actions,  his  dispute  with  the 
church,  and  the  intrigues  of  the  latter,  become  the  mo- 
tives of  France's  breach  of  faith,  of  the  ever-recurring 
contests  from  without,  as  well  as  of  the  internal  dissen- 
sions of  the  kingdom.  The  relation  between  Church  and 
State  is  the  pulse  of  the  whole  historical  action;  John's 
dilemmas,  his  degradation  and  his  death  are  its  work, 
and  the  only  means  that  it  employs  are  that  it  contrives 
cleverly  to  make  use  of  the  illegitimacy  attached  to  his 
crown,  the  weakness  of  his  own  character,  and  the  want 
of  strength  in  the  feudal  community,  which  again  was 
the  result  of  John's  despotic  rule. 

However,  this  state  of  decay  is  manifested  not  only 
externally,  in  John's  kingdom  and  his  relation  to  the 

20 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Comments 

barons  and  people,  but  also  internally,  and  again  not 
only  in  the  State,  for  the  Church  itself  is  rotten  to  its 
inmost  core;  the  policy  of  both  is  immoral,  selfish  and 
pretentious,  and  therefore  loosened  from  its  true  founda- 
tion. The  church,  too,  is  desirous  only  of  outward  splen- 
dour, authority  and  power;  it  has  entirely  mistaken  its 
own  nature  and  its  true  vocation,  and  has  fallen  as  low 
as  the  secular  power,  owing  to  its  disloyal,  intriguing 
actions,  and  its  sophistic  perversion  of  the  fundamental 
laws  of  all  morality. 

Ulrici  :  Shakspeare's  Dramatic  Art. 

VIII. 

Lights  and  Shadows  of  the  Play. 

So  long  as  John  is  the  impersonator  of  England,  of 
defiance  to  the  foreigner,  and  opposition  to  the  Pope, 
so  long  is  he  a  hero.  But  he  is  bold  outside  only, 
only  politically;  inside,  morally,  he  is  a  coward,  sneak, 
and  skunk.  See  how  his  nature  comes  out  in  the  hints 
for  the  murder  of  Arthur,  his  turning  on  Hubert  when  he 
thinks  the  murder  will  bring  evil  to  himself,  and  his  im- 
ploring Falconbridge  to  deny  it.  His  death  ought,  of 
course,  dramatically  to  have  followed  from  some  act  of 
his  in  the  play,  as  revenge  for  the  murder  of  Arthur, 
or  his  plundering  the  abbots  or  abbeys,  or  opposing  the 
Pope.  The  author  of  The  Troublesome  Raigne,  with  a 
true  instinct,  made  a  monk  murder  John  out  of  revenge 
for  his  anti-Papal  patriotism.  But  Shakspere,  unfortu- 
nately, set  this  story  aside,  though  there  was  some  war- 
rant for  it  in  Holinshed,  and  thus  left  a  serious  blot  on 
his  drama  which  it  is  impossible  to  remove.  The  char- 
acter which  to  me  stands  foremost  in  John  is  Constance, 
with  that  most  touching  expression  of  grief  for  the  son 
she  had  lost.  Beside  her  cry,  the  tender  pleading  of 
Arthur  for  his  life  is  heard,  and  both  are  backt  by  the 
rough  voice  of    Falconbridge,    who.    Englishman-like, 

21 


Comments 

deprecates  his  own  motives  at  first,  but  is  lifted  by  pa- 
triotism into  a  gallant  soldier,  while  his  deep  moral  na- 
ture shows  itself  in  his  heartfelt  indignation  at  Arthur's 
supposed  murder.  The  rhetoric  of  the  earlier  historical 
plays  is  kept  up  in  King  John,  and  also  Shakspere's 
power  of  creating  situations,  which  he  had  possesst  from 
the  first 

FuRNivALL :  The  Leopold  Shakspere. 


The  play  marks  the  transition  from  the  chronicle  play 
to  the  true  drama;  in  which  incidents  and  characters  are 
selected  for  their  dramatic  significance,  a  dramatic  mo- 
tive introduced,  dramatic  movement  traced,  and  a  climax 
reached.  The  older  playwrights,  dealing  with  the  events 
of  a  whole  reign,  would  have  given  the  play  an  epical, 
or  narrative  quality ;  Shakespeare  selected,  compressed, 
foreshortened,  and  grouped  events  and  figures  in  such 
a  way  as  to  secure  connected  action,  the  development  of 
character,  and  a  final  catastrophe  which  is  impressive, 
if  not  intrinsically  dramatic.  He  instinctively  omitted 
certain  coarse  scenes  which  were  in  the  older  play;  he 
brought  into  clear  light  and  consistency  certain  charac- 
ters which  were  roughly  sketched  in  the  earlier  work;  in 
the  scene  between  Hubert  and  Arthur  he  struck  a  new 
note  of  tenderness  and  pathos;  while  in  giving  marked 
prominence  to  the  humour  of  Faulconbridge  he  opened 
the  way  for  that  blending  of  comedy  with  tragedy  and 
history  which  is  one  of  the  marks,  not  only  of  his  ma- 
turity, but  of  his  greatness.  The  play  has  no  hero,  and  is 
not  free  from  the  faults  of  the  long  fine  of  dramas  from 
which  it  descended  and  to  which  it  belongs,  but  Shake- 
speare's creative  energy  is  distinctly  at  work  in  it. 
Mabie:   William  Shakespeare:  Poet,  Dramatist  and  Man. 


22 


The  Life  and  Death  of 

King  John. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONAE. 

King  John. 

Prince  Henry,  son  to  the  king. 

Arthur,  Duke  of  Bretagne,  nephew  to  the  king. 

The  Earl  of  Pembroke. 

The  Earl  of  Essex. 

The  Earl  of  Salisbury. 

The  Lord  Bigot. 

Hubert  De  Burgh. 

Robert  Faulconbridge,  son  to  Sir  Robert  Faulconbridge. 

Philip  the  Bastard,  his  half-brother. 

James  Gurney,  servant  to  Lady  Faulconbridge. 

Peter  of  Pomfret,  a  prophet. 

Philip,  king  of  France. 

Lewis,  the  Dauphin. 

Lymoges,  Duke  of  Austria. 

Cardinal  Pandulph,  the  Pope's  legate. 

Melun,  a  French  lord. 

Chatillon,  ambassador  from  France  to  King  John. 

Queen  Elinor,  mother  to  King  John. 
Constance,  mother  to  Arthur. 
Blanch  of  Spain,  niece  to  King  John. 
Lady  Faulconbridge. 

Lords,   Citizens  of  Angiers,   Sheriff,   Heralds,  Officers,   Soldiers, 
Messengers,  and  other  Attendants. 

Scene:   Partly  in  England,  and  partly  in  France. 


The  Life  and  Death  of 
King  John, 

ACT  FIRST. 

Scene  I. 

King  John's  palace. 

Enter  King  John,  Queen  Elinor,  Pembroke,  Essex,  SaliS' 
bury,  and  others,  with  Chatillon. 

K,  John.  Now,  say,  Chatillon,  what  would  France  with 
us? 

Chat.  Thus,  after  greeting,  speaks  the  King  of  France 
In  my  behaviour  to  the  majesty, 
The  borrowed  majesty,  of  England  here. 

Eli.  A  strange  beginning:    'borrowed  majesty!' 

K.John.  Silence,  good  mother;   hear  the  embassy. 

Chat.  Philip  of  France,  in  right  and  true  behalf 
Of  thy  deceased  brother  Geffrey's  son, 
Arthur  Plantagenet,  lays  most  lawful  claim 
To  this  fair  island  and  the  territories,  lO 

To  Ireland,  Poictiers,  Anjou,  Touraine,  Maine, 
Desiring  thee  to  lay  aside  the  sword 
Which  sways  usurpingly  these  several  titles. 
And  put  the  same  into  young  Arthur's  hand, 
Thy  nephew  and  right  royal  sovereign. 

K.  John.  What  follows  if  we  disallow  of  this? 

Chat.  The  proud  control  of  fierce  and  bloody  war, 
To  enforce  these  rights  so  forcibly  withheld. 

25 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

K,  John.  Here  have  we  war  for  war  and  blood  for  blood, 
Controlment  for  controlment :  so  answer  France,     20 

Chat.  Then  take  my  king's  defiance  from  my  mouth, 
The  farthest  limit  of  my  embassy. 

K,  John.  Bear  mine  to  him,  and  so  depart  in  peace : 
Be  thou  as  lightning  in  the  eyes  of  France; 
For  ere  thou  canst  report  I  will  be  there, 
The  thunder  of  my  cannon  shall  be  heard: 
So  hence !  Be  thou  the  trumpet  of  our  wrath 
And  sullen  presage  of  your  own  decay. 
An  honourable  conduct  let  him  have: 
Pembroke,   look  to 't.     Farewell,   Chatillon.         30 
[Exeunt  Chatillon  and  Pembroke, 

Eli.  What  now,  my  son !  have  I  not  ever  said 

How  that  ambitious  Constance  would  not  cease 

Till  she  had  kindled  France  and  all  the  world, 

Upon  the  right  and  party  of  her  son? 

This  might  have  been  prevented  and  made  whole 

With  very  easy  arguments  of  love. 

Which  now  the  manage  of  two  kingdoms  must 

With  fearful  bloody  issue  arbitrate. 

K.  John.  Our  strong  possession  and  our  right  for  us. 

Eli.  Your  strong  possession  much  more  than  your  right, 
Or  else  it  must  go  wrong  with  you  and  me:  41 

So  much  my  conscience  whispers  in  your  ear. 
Which  none  but  heaven  and  you  and  I  shall  hear. 

Enter  a  Sheriff, 

I  ssex.  My  liege,  here  is  the  strangest  controversy 
Come  from  the  country  to  be  judged  by  you, 
That  e'er  I  heard:  shall  I  produce  the  men? 

K,  John.  Let  them  approach. 

26 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Our  abbeys  and  our  priories  shall  pay 
This  expedition's  charge. 

Enter  Robert  Faulconhridgc,  and  Philip  his  bastard 

brother. 

What  men  are  you? 

Bast.  Your  faithful  subject  I,  a  gentleman  50 

Born  in  Northamptonshire,  and  eldest  son, 
As  I  suppose,  to  Robert  Faulconbridge, 
A  soldier,  by  the  honour-giving  hand 
Of  Coeur-de-lion  knighted  in  the  field. 

K,  John.  What  art  thou  ? 

Rob.  The  son  and  heir  to  that  same  Faulconbridge. 

K.  John.  Is  that  the  elder,  and  art  thou  the  heir? 
You  came  not  of  one  mother  then,^  it  seems. 

Bast.  Most  certain  of  one  mother,  mighty  king ; 

That  is  well  known  ;  and,  as  I  think,  one  father :    60 
But  for  the  certain  knowledge  of  that  truth 
I  put  you  o'er  to  heaven  and  to  my  mother: 
Of  that  I  doubt,  as  all  men's  children  may. 

Eli.  Out  on  thee,  rude  man !  thou  dost  shame  thy  mother 
And  wound  her  honour  with  this  diffidence. 

Bast.  I,  madam  ?  no,  I  have  no  reason  for  it ; 

That  is  my  brother's  plea  and  none  of  mine; 
The  which  if  he  can  prove,  a'  pops  me  out 
At  least  from  fair  five  hundred  pound  a  year: 
Heaven  guard  my  mother's  honour  and  my  land!  70 

K.  John.  A  good  blunt  fellow.    Why,  being  younger  born, 
Doth  he  lay  claim  to  thine  inheritance? 

Bast.  I  know  not  why,  except  to  get  the  land. 
But  once  he  slander'd  me  with  bastardy: 
But  whether  I  be  as  true  begot  or  no, 
That  still  I  lay  upon  my  mother's  head; 

27 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

But  that  I  am  as  well  begot,  my  liege, — 

Pair  fall  the  bones  that  took  the  pains  for  me! — 

Compare  our  faces  and  be  judge  yourself. 

If  old  Sir  Robert  did  beget  us  both  80 

And  were  our  father  and  this  son  like  him, 

O,  old  Sir  Robert,  father,  on  my  knee 

I  give  heaven  thanks  I  was  not  like  to  thee! 

K.  John.   Why,  what  a  madcap  hath  heaven  lent  us  here ! 

Eli.  He  hath  a  trick  of  Cceur-de-lion's  face ; 
The  accent  of  his  tongue  affecteth  him. 
Do  you  not  read  some  tokens  of  my  son 
In  the  large  composition  of  this  man? 

K.  John.  Mine  eye  hath  well  examined  his  parts 

And  finds  them  perfect  Richard.     Sirrah,  speak,    90 
What  doth  move  you  to  claim  your  brother's  land? 

Bast.  Because  he  hath  a  half-face,  like  my  father. 
With  half  that  face  would  he  have  all  my  land : 
A  half-faced  groat  five  hundred  pound  a  year! 

Rah.  My  gracious  liege,  when  that  my  father  Hved, 
Your  brother  did  employ  my  father  much, — 

Bast.  Well,  sir,  by  this  you  cannot  get  my  land : 

Your  tale  must  be  how  he  employed  my  mother. 

Rah.  And  once  dispatch'd  him  in  an  embassy 

To  Germany,  there  with  the  emperor  100 

To  treat  of  high  affairs  touching  that  time. 
The  advantage  of  his  absence  took  the  king 
And  in  the  mean  time  sojourn'd  at  my  father's; 
Where  how  he  did  prevail  I  shame  to  speak, 
But  truth  is  truth:   large  lengths  of  seas  and  shores 
Between  my  father  and  my  mother  lay, 
As  I  have  heard  my  father  speak  himself. 
When  this  same  lusty  gentleman  was  got. 
28 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Upon  his  death-bed  he  by  will  bequeathed 

His  lands  to  me,  and  took  it  on  his  death  no 

That  this  my  mother's  son  was  none  of  his; 

And  if  he  were,  he  came  into  the  world 

Full  fourteen  weeks  before  the  course  of  time. 

Then,  good  my  liege,  let  me  have  what  is  mine, 

My  father's  land  as  was  my  father's  will. 

K.  John.  Sirrah,  your  brother  is  legitimate ; 

Your  father's  wife  did  after  wedlock  bear  him, 
And  if  she  did  play  false,  the  fault  was  hers; 
Which  fault  lies  on  the  hazards  of  all  husbands 
That  marry  wives.     Tell  me,  how  if  my  brother,   120 
Who,  as  you  say,  took  pains  to  get  this  son. 
Had  of  your  father  claim'd  this  son  for  his? 
In  sooth,  good  friend,  your  father  might  have  kept 
This  calf,  bred  from  his  cow,  from  all  the  world; 
In  sooth  he  might;  then,  if  he  were  my  brother's, 
My  brother  might  not  claim  him:  nor  your  father, 
Being  none  of  his,  refuse  him:   this  concludes; 
My  mother's  son  did  get  your  father's  heir; 
Your  father's  heir  must  have  your  father's  land. 

Rob.  Shall  then  my  father's  will  be  of  no  force  130 

To  dispossess  that  child  which  is  not  his? 

Bast.  Of  no  more  force  to  dispossess  me,  sir. 
Than  was  his  will  to  get  me,  as  I  think. 

Eli.  Whether  hadst  thou  rather  be  a  Faulconbridge, 
And  like  thy  brother,  to  enjoy  thy  land, 
Or  the  reputed  son  of  Coeur-de-lion, 
Lord  of  thy  presence  and  no  land  beside? 

Bast.  Madam,  an  if  my  brother  had  my  shape. 
And  I  had  his,  sir  Robert's  his,  like  him; 
And  if  my  legs  were  two  such  riding-rods,  140 

29 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

My  arms  such  eel-skins  stuff'd,  my  face  so  thin 

That  in  mine  ear  I  durst  not  stick  a  rose 

Lest  men  should  say  '  Look,  where  three-farthings 
goes! ' 

And,  to  his  shape,  were  heir  to  all  this  land. 

Would  I  might  never  stir  from  off  this  place, 

I  would  give  it  every  foot  to  have  this  face ; 

I  would  not  be  sir  Nob  in  any  case. 
Eli.  I  like  thee  well:   wilt  thou  forsake  thy  fortune, 

Bequeath  thy  land  to  him  and  follow  me? 

I  am  a  soldier  and  now  bound  to  France.  150 

Bast.  Brother,  take  you  my  land,  I  '11  take  my  chance. 

Your  face  hath  got  five  hundred  pound  a  year, 

Yet  sell  your  face  for  five  pence  and  'tis  dear. 

Madam,  I  '11  follow  you  unto  the  death. 
Eli.  Nay,  I  would  have  you  go  before  me  thither. 
Bast.  Our  country  manners  give  our  betters  way. 
K.  John.  What  is  thy  name? 
Bast.  Philip,  my  Hege,  so  is  my  name  begun; 

Philip,  good  old  sir  Robert's  wife's  eldest  son. 
K.  John.  From  henceforth  bear  his  name  whose  form 
thoubear'st:  160 

Kneel  thou  down  Philip,  but  rise  more  great, 

Arise  sir  Richard  and  Plantagenet. 
Bast.  Brother  by  the  mother's  side,  give  me  your  hand: 

My  father  gave  me  honour,  yours  gave  land. 

Now  blessed  be  the  hour,  by  night  or  day. 

When  I  was  got,  sir  Robert  was  away! 
Eli.  The  very  spirit  of  Plantagenet! 

I  am  thy  grandam,  Richard;  call  me  so. 
Bast.  Madam,    by    chance    but    not    by    truth;     what 
though  ? 

30 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Something  about,  a  little  from  the  right,  170 

In  at  the  window,  or  else  o'er  the  hatch: 

Who  dares  not  stir  by  day  must  walk  by  night, 
And  have  is  have,  however  men  do  catch : 

Near  or  far  off,  well  won  is  still  well  shot. 

And  I  am  I,  howe'er  I  was  begot. 
K.  John.  Go,  Faulconbridge:   now  hast  thou  thy  desire; 

A  landless  knight  makes  thee  a  landed  squire. 

Come,  madam,  and  come,  Richard,  we  must  speed 

For  France,  for  France,  for  it  is  more  than  need. 
Bast.  Brother,  adieu:  good  fortune  come  to  thee!      180 

For  thou  wast  got  i'  the  way  of  honesty. 

[Exeunt  all  hut  Bastard. 

A  foot  of  honour  better  than  I  was; 

But  many  a  many  foot  of  land  the  worse. 

Well,  now  can  I  make  any  Joan  a  lady. 

'Good     den,     sir     Richard!' — '  God-a-mercy,     fel- 
low!'— 

And  if  his  name  be  George,  I  '11  call  him  Peter ; 

For  new-made  honour  doth  forget  men's  names; 

'Tis  too  respective  and  too  sociable 

For  your  conversion.     Now  your  traveller, 

He  and  his  toothpick  at  my  worship's  mess,         190 

And  when  my  knightly  stom.ach  is  sufficed, 

Why  then  I  suck  my  teeth  and  catechize 

My  picked  man  of  countries :   '  My  dear  sir,' 

Thus,  leaning  on  mine  elbow,  I  begin, 

*  I  shall  beseech  you  ' — that  is  question  now; 
And  then  comes  answer  like  an  Absey  book: 

*  O  sir,'  says  answer, '  at  your  best  command; 
At  your  employment ;  at  your  service,  sir : ' 

*  No,  sir,'  says  question,  '  I,  sweet  sir,  at  yours : ' 
And  so,  ere  answer  knows  what  question  would,  200 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Saving  in  dialogue  of  compliment, 

And  talking  of  the  Alps  and  Apennines, 

The  Pyrenean,  and  the  river  Po, 

It  draws  towards  supper  in  conclusion  so. 

But  this  is  worshipful  society, 

And  fits  the  mounting  spirit  like  myself; 

For  he  is  but  a  bastard  to  the  time 

That  doth  not  smack  of  observation; 

And  so  am  I,  whether  I  smack  or  no; 

And  not  alone  in  habit  and  device,  210 

Exterior  form,  outward  accoutrement, 

But  from  the  inward  motion  to  deliver 

Sweet,  sweet,  sweet  poison  for  the  age's  tooth: 

Which,  though  I  will  not  practise  to  deceive. 

Yet,  to  avoid  deceit,  I  mean  to  learn ; 

For  it  shall  strew  the  footsteps  of  my  rising. 

But  who  comes  in  such  haste  in  riding-robes? 

What  woman-post  is  this?   hath  she  no  husband 

That  will  take  pains  to  blow  a  horn  before  her? 

Enter  Lady  Faulconbridge  and  James  Giirney. 

O  me!  it  is  my  mother.    How  now,  good  lady? 

What  brings  you  here  to  court  so  hastily?  221 

Lady  F.  Where  is  that  slave,  thy  brother?  where  is  he. 

That  holds  in  chase  mine  honour  up  and  down? 
Bast.  My  brother  Robert?  old  sir  Robert's  son? 

Colbrand  the  giant,  that  same  mighty  man? 

Is  it  sir  Robert's  son  that  you  seek  so? 
Lady  F.  Sir  Robert's  son  !     Ay,  thou  unreverend  boy, 

Sir  Robert's  son:   why  scom'st  thou  at  Sir  Robert? 

He  is  sir  Robert's  son,  and  so  art  thou. 
Bast.  James  Gurney,  wilt  thou  give  me  leave  awhile  ?  230 

32 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Giir.  Good  leave,  good  Philip. 

Bast.  Philip  !   sparrow  :  James, 

There  's  toys  abroad :   anon  I  '11  tell  thee  more. 

[Exit  Giirney. 
Madam,  I  was  not  old  sir  Robert's  son: 
Sir  Robert  might  have  eat  his  part  in  me 
Upon  Good-Friday  and  ne'er  broke  his  fast : 
Sir  Robert  could  do  well:    marry,  to  confess, 
Could  he  get  me?     Sir  Robert  could  not  do  it: 
We  know  his  handiwork:   therefore,  good  mother, 
To  whom  am  I  beholding  for  these  limbs  ? 
Sir  Robert  never  holp  to  make  this  leg.  240 

Lady  F.  Hast  thou  conspired  with  thy  brother  too, 

That    for    thine    own    gain    shouldst    defend    mine 

honour? 
What  means  this  scorn,  thou  most  untoward  knave? 

Bast.  Knight,  knight,  good  mother,  Basilisco-like. 
What!   I  am  dubb'd!   I  have  it  on  my  shoulder. 
But,  mother,  I  am  not  sir  Robert's  son; 
I  have  disclaim'd  sir  Robert  and  my  land: 
Legitimation,  name  and  all  is  gone: 
Then,  good  my  mother,  let  me  know  my  father; 
Some  proper  man,  I  hope:   who  was  it,  mother?  250 

Lady  F.  Hast  thou  denied  thyself  a  Faulconbridge  ? 

Bast.  As  faithfully  as  I  deny  the  devil. 

Ladij  F.  King  Richard  Coeur-de-lion  was  thy  father : 
By  long  and  vehement  suit  I  was  seduced 
To  make  room  for  him  in  my  husband's  bed: 
Heaven  lay  not  my  trangression  to  my  charge: 
Thou  art  the  issue  of  my  dear  ofifence, 
Which  was  so  strongly  urged  past  my  defence. 

Bast.  Now,  by  this  light,  were  I  to  get  again. 

Madam,  I  would  not  wish  a  better  father.  260 

33 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Some  sins  do  bear  their  privilege  on  earth, 

And  so  doth  yours;  your  fault  was  not  your  folly: 

Needs  must  you  lay  your  heart  at  his  dispose, 

Subjected  tribute  to  commanding  love, 

Against  whose  fury  and  unmatched  force 

The  aweless  lion  could  not  wage  the  fight, 

Nor  keep  his  princely  heart  from  Richard's  hand. 

He  that  perforce  robs  lions  of  their  hearts 

May  easily  win  a  woman's.     Ay,  my  mother, 

With  all  my  heart  I  thank  thee  for  my  father!      270 

Who  lives  and  dares  but  say  thou  didst  not  well 

When  I  was  got,  I  '11  send  his  soul  to  hell. 

Come,  lady,  I  will  show  thee  to  my  kin ; 

And  they  shall  say,  when  Richard  me  begot, 
If  thou  hadst  said  him  nay,  it  had  been  sin  : 

Who  says  it  was,  he  Hes ;  I  say  'twas  not. 

[Exeunt. 

ACT  SECOND. 

Scene  I. 

France.     Before  Angiers. 

Enter  Austria  and  forces,  drums,  etc.,  on  one  side:  on  the 
other  King  Philip  of  France  and  his  power:  Lewis, 
Arthur,  Constance  and  attendants. 

Lew.  Before  Angiers  well  met,  brave  Austria. 
Arthur,  that  great  forerunner  of  thy  blood, 
Richard,  that  robb'd  the  lion  of  his  heart      • 
And  fought  the  holy  wars  in  Palestine, 
By  this  brave  duke  came  early  to  his  grave: 
And  for  amends  to  his  posterity, 

34 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

At  our  importance  hither  is  he  come, 

To  spread  his  colours,  boy,  in  thy  behalf, 

And  to  rebuke  the  usurpation 

Of  thy  unnatural  uncle,  English  John :  lo 

Embrace  him,  love  him,  give  him  welcome  hither. 

Arth.  God  shall  forgive  you  Coeur-de-lion's  death 
The  rather  that  you  give  his  offspring  life, 
Shadowing  their  right  under  your  wings  of  war : 
I  give  you  welcome  with  a  powerless  hand, 
But  with  a  heart  full  of  unstained  love : 
Welcome  before  the  gates  of  Anglers,  duke. 

Lew.  A  noble  boy!    Who  would  not  do  thee  right? 

Aust.  Upon  thy  cheek  lay  I  this  zealous  kiss, 

As  seal  to  this  indenture  of  my  love,  20 

That  to  my  home  I  will  no  more  return, 

Till  Angiers  and  the  right  thou  hast  in  France, 

Together  with  that  pale,  that  white-faced  shore, 

Whose  foot  spurns  back  the  ocean's  roaring  tides 

And  coops  from  other  lands  her  islanders. 

Even  till  that  England,  hedged  in  with  the  main, 

That  water-walled  bulwark,  still  secure 

And  confident  from  foreign  purposes. 

Even  till  that  utmost  corner  of  the  west 

Salute  thee  for  her  king:  till  then,  fair  boy,  30 

Will  I  not  think  of  home,  but  follow  arms. 

Const.  O,  take  his  mother's  thanks,  a  widow's  thanks. 
Till  your  strong  hand  shall  help  to  give  him  strength 
To  make  a  more  requital  to  your  love! 

Aust.  The  peace  of  heaven  is  theirs  that  Hft  their  swords 
In  such  a  just  and  charitable  war. 

K.  Phi.  Well  then,  to  work:   our  cannon  shall  be  bent 
Against  the  brows  of  this  resisting  town. 

35 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Call  for  our  chiefest  men  of  discipline, 
To  cull  the  plots  of  best  advantages:  40 

We  '11  lay  before  this  town  our  royal  bones, 
Wade  to  the  market-place  in  Frenchmen's  blood, 
But  we  will  make  it  subject  to  this  boy. 
Const.  Stay  for  an  answer  to  your  embassy, 

Lest  unadvised  you  stain  your  swords  with  blood: 
My  Lord  Chatillon  may  from  England  bring 
That  right  in  peace  which  here  we  urge  in  war, 
And  then  we  shall  repent  each  drop  of  blood 
That  hot  rash  haste  so  indirectly  shed. 

Enter  Chatillon. 

K.  Phi.  A  wonder,  lady !  lo,  upon  thy  wish,  50 

Our  messenger  Chatillon  is  arrived! 
What  England  says,  say  briefly,  gentle  lord  ,* 
We  coldly  pause  for  thee;   Chatillon,  speak. 

Chat.  Then  turn  your  forces  from  this  paltry  siege 
And  stir  them  up  against  a  mightier  task. 
England,  impatient  of  your  just  commands, 
Hath  put  himself  in  arms:    the  adverse  wands. 
Whose  leisure  I  have  stay'd,  have  given  him  time 
To  land  his  legions  all  as  soon  as  I; 
His  marches  are  expedient  to  this  town,  60 

His  forces  strong,  his  soldiers  confident. 
With  him  along  is  come  the  mother-queen. 
An  Ate,  stirring  him  to  blood  and  strife; 
With  her  her  niece,  the  Lady  Blanch  of  Spain; 
With  them  a  bastard  of  the  king's  deceased; 
And  all  the  unsettled  humours  of  the  land. 
Rash,  inconsiderate,  fiery  voluntaries. 
With  ladies'  faces  and  fierce  dragons'  spleens, 

36 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Have  sold  their  fortunes  at  their  native  homes, 

Bearing  their  birthrights  proudly  on  their  backs,     70 

To  make  a  hazard  of  new  fortunes  here: 

In  brief,  a  braver  choice  of  dauntless  spirits 

Than  now  the  English  bottoms  have  waft  o'er 

Did  never  float  upon  the  swelling  tide, 

To  do  bfifence  and  scath  in  Christendom. 

[Drum  beats. 
The  interruption  of  their  churlish  drums 
Cuts  off  more  circumstance:   they  are  at  hand, 
To  parley  or  to  light ;   therefore  prepare. 

K.  Phi.  How  much  unlook'd  for  is  this  expedition! 

Aust.  By  how  much  unexpected,  by  so  much  80 

We  must  awake  endeavour  for  defence; 
For  courage  mounteth  with  occasion : 
Let  them  be  welcome  then  ;  we  are  prepared. 

Enter  King  John,  Elinor,  Blanch,  the  Bastard,  Lords,  and 

Forces. 

K.  John.  Peace  be  to  France,  if  France  in  peace  permit 
Our  just  and  lineal  entrance  to  our  own; 
If  not,  bleed  France,  and  peace  ascend  to  heaven, 
Whiles  we,  God's  wrathful  agent,  do  correct 
Their   proud    contempt   that   beats    His    peace    to 
heaven. 

K.  Phi.  Peace  be  to  England,  if  that  war  return 

From  France  to  England,  there  to  live  in  peace.     90 
England  we  love;   and  for  that  England's  sake 
With  burden  of  our  armour  here  we  sweat. 
This  toil  of  ours  should  be  a  work  of  thine; 
But  thou  from  loving  England  art  so  far, 
That  thou  hast  under-wrought  his  lawful  king, 
Cut  off  from  the  sequence  of  posterity, 

37 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Out-faced  infant  state  and  done  a  rape 
Upon  the  maiden  virtue  of  the  crown. 
Look  here  upon  thy  brother  Geffrey's  face; 
These  eyes,  these  brows,  were  moulded  out  of  his: 
This  Httle  abstract  doth  contain  that  large         loi 
Which  died  in  Geffrey,  and  the  hand  of  time 
Shall  draw  this  brief  into  as  huge  a  volume. 
That  Geffrey  was  thy  elder  brother  born. 
And  this  his  son;   England  was  Geffrey's  right, 
And  this  is  Geffrey's:   in  the  name  of  God 
How  comes  it  then  that  thou  art  call'd  a  king, 
When  living  blood  doth  in  these  temples  beat, 
Which  owe  the  crown  that  thou  o'ermasterest  ? 

K.  John.  From  whom   hast  thou  this  great  commission, 
France,  no 

To  draw  my  answer  from  thy  articles? 

K.  Phi.  From    that    supernal    judge,    that    stirs    good 
thoughts 
In  any  breast  of  strong  authority. 
To  look  into  the  blots  and  stains  of  right: 
That  judge  hath  made  me  guardian  to  this  boy : 
Under  whose  warrant  I  impeach  thy  wrong, 
And  by  whose  help  I  mean  to  chastise  it. 

K.  John.  Alack,  thou  dost  usurp  authority. 

K.  Phi.  Excuse;   it  is  to  beat  usurping  down. 

Eli.  Who  is  it  thou  dost  call  usurper,  France?  120 

Const.  Let  me  make  answer;   thy  usurping  son. 

Eli,  Out,  insolent !   thy  bastard  shall  be  king. 

That  thou  mayst  be  a  queen,  and  check  the  world! 

Const.  My  bed  was  ever  to  thy  son  as  true 

As  thine  was  to  thy  husband;  and  this  boy 

Liker  in  feature  to  his  father  Geffrey 

Than  thou  and  John  in  manners;  being  as  like 

38      • 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

As  rain  to  water,  or  devil  to  his  dam. 

My  boy  a  bastard!     By  my  soul,  I  think 

His  father  never  was  so  true  begot:  130 

It  cannot  be,  an  if  thou  wert  his  mother. 

Eli.  There  's  a  good  mother,  boy,  that  blots  thy  father. 

Const.  There  's  a  good  grandam,  boy,  that  would  blot 
thee. 

Anst.  Peace! 

Bast.  Hear  the  crier. 

Anst.  What  the  devil  art  thou? 

Bast.  One  that  will  play  the  devil,  sir,  with  you, 
An  a'  may  catch  your  hide  and  you  alone : 
You  are  the  hare  of  whom  the  proverb  goes, 
Whose  valour  plucks  dead  lions  by  the  beard: 
I  '11  smoke  your  skin-coat,  as  I  catch  you  right ; 
Sirrah,  look  to't;    i'  faith,  I  will,  i'  faith.  140 

Blanch.  O,  well  did  he  become  that  lion's  robe 
That  did  disrobe  the  lion  of  that  robe! 

Bast.  It  lies  as  sightly  on  the  back  of  him 
As  great  Alcides'  shows  upon  an  ass: 
But,  ass,  I  '11  take  that  burthen  from  your  back, 
Or  lay  on  that  shall  make  your  shoulders  crack. 

Aust.  What  cracker  is  this  same  that  deafs  our  ears 
With  this  abundance  of  superfluous  breath? 
King  Philip,  determine  what  we  shall  do  straight. 

K.  Phi.  Women  and  fools,  break  oflf  your  conference. 
King  John,  this  is  the  very  sum  of  all;  1 51 

England  and  Ireland,  Anjou,  Touraine,  Maine, 
In  right  of  Arthur  do  I  claim  of  thee: 
Wilt  thou  resign  them  and  lay  down  thy  arms? 

K.  John.  My  life  as  soon:  I  do  defy  thee,  France. 
Arthur  of  Bretagne,  yield  thee  to  my  hand; 
And  out  of  my  dear  love  I  '11  give  thee  more 

39 


Act  11.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Than  e'er  the  coward  hand  of  France  can  win: 
Submit  thee,  boy. 

Eli.  Come  to  thy  grandam,  child. 

Const.  Do,  child,  go  to  it  grandam,  child;  i6o 

Give  grandam  kingdom,  and  it  grandam  will 
Give  it  a  plum,  a  cherry,  and  a  fig: 
There  's  a  good  grandam. 

Arth.  ,       Good  my  mother,  peace! 

I  would  that  I  were  low  laid  in  my  grave: 
I  am  not  worth  this  coil  that 's  made  for  me. 

Eli.  His  mother  shames  him  so,  poor  boy,  he  weeps. 

Const.  Now  shame  upon  you,  whether  she  does  or  no ! 
His    grandam's    wrongs,    and    not    his    mother's 

shames. 
Draws  those  heaven-moving  pearls  from  his  poor 

eyes. 
Which  heaven  shall  take  in  nature  of  a  fee;  170 

Ay,  with  these  crystal  beads  heaven  shall  be  bribed 
To  do  him  justice  and  revenge  on  you. 

Eli.  Thou  monstrous  slanderer  of  heaven  and  earth ! 

Const.  Thou  monstrous  injurer  of  heaven  and  earth! 
Call  not  me  slanderer ;  thou  and  thine  usurp 
The  dominations,  royalties  and  rights 
Of  this  oppressed  boy:  this  is  thy  eld'st  son's  son, 
Infortunate  in  nothing  but  in  thee: 
Thy  sins  are  visited  in  this  poor  child; 
The  canon  of  the  law  is  laid  on  him,  180 

Being  but  the  second  generation 
*  Removed  from  thy  sin-conceiving  womb. 

K.  John.  Bedlam,  have  done. 

Const.  T  have  but  this  to  say, 

That  he  is  not  only  plagued  for  her  sin, 
But  God  hath  made  her  sin  and  her  the  plague 
On  this  removed  issue,  plagued  for  her 

40 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

And  with  her  plague;   her  sin  his  injury, 

Her  injury  the  beadle  to  her  sin, 

All  punish'd  in  the  person  of  this  child, 

And  all  for  her;  a  plague  upon  her!  190 

Eli.  Thou  unadvised  scold,  I  can  produce 
A  will  that  bars  the  title  of  thy  son. 

Const.  Ay,  who  doubts  that?   a  will!   a  wicked  will; 
A  woman's  will;  a  canker'd  grandam's  will! 

K.Phi.  Peace,  lady!   pause,  or  be  more  temperate: 
It  ill  beseems  this  presence  to  cry  aim 
To  these  ill-tuned  repetitions. 
Some  trumpet  summon  hither  to  the  walls 
These  men  of  Angiers:  let  us  hear  them  speak 
Whose  title  they  admit,  Arthur's  or  John's.  200 

Trumpet  sounds^    Enter  certain  Citizens  upon  the  walls. 

First  Cit.  Who  is  it  that  hath  warn'd  us  to  the  walls  ? 

K.  Phi.  'Tis  France,  for  England. 

K.  John.  England,  for  itself. 

You  men  of  Angiers,  and  my  loving  subjects, — 

K.  Phi.  You  loving  men  of  Angiers,  Arthur's  subjects, 
Our  trumpet  call'd  you  to  this  gentle  parle, — 

K.  John.  For  our  advantage;  therefore  hear  us  first. 
These  liags  of  France,  that  are  advanced  here 
Before  the  eye  and  prospect  of  your  town, 
Have  hither  march'd  to  your  endamagement : 
The  cannons  have  their  bowels  full  of  wrath,         210 
And  ready  mounted  are  they  to  spit  forth 
Their  iron  indignation  'gainst  your  walls : 
All  preparation  for  a  bloody  siege 
And  merciless  proceeding  by  these  French 
Confronts  your  city's  eyes,  your  winking  gates; 

41 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

And  but  for  our  approach  those  sleeping  stones, 
That  as  a  waist  doth  girdle  you  about, 
By  the  compulsion  of  their  ordinance 
By  this  time  from  their  fixed  beds  of  lime 
Had  been  dishabited,  and  wide  havoc  made  220 

For  bloody  power  to  rush  upon  your  peace. 
But  on  the  sight  of  us  your  lawful  king, 
Who  painfully  with  much  expedient  march 
Have  brought  a  countercheck  before  your  gates, 
To  save  unscratch'd  your  city's  threatened  cheeks, 
Behold,  the  French  amazed  vouchsafe  a  parle; 
And  now,  instead  of  bullets  wrapp'd  in  fire. 
To  make  a  shaking  fever  in  your  walls. 
They  shoot  but  calm  words  folded  up  in  smoke. 
To  make  a  faithless  error  in  your  ears:  230 

Which  trust  accordingly,  kind  citizens. 
And  let  us  in,  your  king,  whose  labour'd  spirits, 
Forwearied  in  this  action  of  swift  speed. 
Crave  harbourage  within  your  city  walls. 
K.  Phi.  When  I  have  said,  make  answer  to  us  both. 
Lo,  in  this  right  hand,  whose  protection 
Is  most  divinely  vow'd  upon  the  right 
Of  him  it  holds,  stands  young  Plantagenet, 
Son  to  the  elder  brother  of  this  man, 
And  king  o'er  him  and  all  that  he  enjoys:  240 

For  this  down-trodden  equity,  we  tread 
In  warlike  march  these  greens  before  your  town. 
Being  no  further  enemy  to  you 
Than  the  constraint  of  hospitable  zeal 
In  the  relief  of  this  oppressed  child 
Religiously  provokes.     Be  pleased  then 
To  pay  that  duty  which  you  truly  owe 
42 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

To  him  that  owes  it,  namely  this  young  prince : 

And  then  our  arms,  Hke  to  a  muzzled  bear,  • 

Save  in  aspect,  hath  all  offence  seal'd  up ;  250 

Our  cannons'  malice  vainly  shall  be  spent 

Against  the  invulnerable  clouds  of  heaven; 

And  with  a  blessed  and  unvex'd  retire. 

With  unhack'd  swords  and  helmets  all  unbruised, 

We  will  bear  home  that  lusty  blood  again 

Which  here  we  came  to  spout  against  your  town. 

And  leave  your  children,  wives  and  you  in  peace. 

But  if  you  fondly  pass  our  proffer'd  offer, 

'Tis  not  the  roundure  of  your  old-faced  walls 

Can  hide  you  from  our  messengers  of  war,  260 

Though  all  these  English  and  their  discipline 

Were  harbour'd  in  their  rude  circumference. 

Then  tell  us,  shall  your  city  call  us  lord. 

In  that  behalf  which  we  have  challenged  it? 

Or  shall  we  give  the  signal  to  our  rage 

And  stalk  in  blood  to  our  possession? 

First  Cit.  In  brief,  we  are  the  king  of  England's  subjects: 
For  him,  and  in  his  right,  we  hold  this  town. 

K.  John.  Acknowledge  then  the  king,  and  let  me  in. 

First  Cit.  That  can  w^e  not;  but  he  that  proves  the  king, 
To  him  will  we  prove  loyal :  till  that  time  271 

Have  we  ramm'd  up  our  gates  against  the  world. 

K.  John.  Doth  not  the  crown  of  England  prove  the  king? 
And  if  not  that,  I  bring  you  witnesses, 
Twice  fifteen  thousand  hearts  of  England's  breed, — 

Bast.  Bastards,  and  else. 

K.  John.  To  verify  our  title  with  their  lives. 

K.  Phi.  As  many  and  as  well-born  bloods  as  those — 

Bast.  Some  bastards  too. 

43 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

K.  Phi.  Stand  in  his  face  to  contradict  his  claim.         280 
First  Cit.  Till  you  compound  whose  right  is  worthiest, 

We  for  the  worthiest  hold  the  right  from  both. 
K.  John.  Then  God  forgive  the  sin  of  all  those  souls 

That  to  their  everlasting  residence. 

Before  the  dew  of  evening  fall,  shall  fleet, 

In  dreadful  trial  of  our  kingdom's  king! 
K.  Phi.  Amen,  amen !     Mount,  chevaliers  !   to  arms  ! 
Bast.  Saint  George,  that  swinged  the  dragon,  and  e'er 
since 

Sits  on  his  horse  back  at  mine  hostess'  door, 

Teach  us  some  fence!     [To  Aiist.]    Sirrah,  were  I 
at  home,  290 

At  your  den,  sirrah,  with  your  lioness,  .. 

I  would  set  an  ox-head  to  your  Hon's  hide. 

And  make  a  monster  of  you. 
Aust.  Peace!    no  more. 

Bast.  O,  tremble,  for  you  hear  the  lion  roar. 
K.John.  Up  higher  to  the  plain;    where  we'll  set  forth 

In  best  appointment  all  our  regiments. 
Bast.  Speed  then,  to  take  advantage  of  the  field. 
K.  Phi.  It  shall  be  so;  and  at  the  other  hill 

Command  the  rest  to  stand.     God  and  our  right! 

[Exeunt. 

Here  after  excursions,  enter  the  Herald  of  France,  with 
trumpets,  to  the  gates. 

F.  Her.  You  men  of  Anglers,  open  wide  your  gates,    300 
And  let  young  Arthur,  Duke  of  Bretagne,  in. 
Who  by  the  hand  of  France  this  day  hath  made 
Much  work  for  tears  in  many  an  English  mother, 
Whose  sons  He  scattered  on  the  bleeding  ground: 
Many  a  widow's  husband  grovelling  lies, 

44 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Coldly  embracing-  the  discoloured  earth; 

And  victory,  with  little  loss,  doth  play 

Upon  the  dancing  banners  of  the  French, 

Who  are  at  hand,  triumphantly  display'd. 

To  enter  conquerors,  and  to  proclaim  310 

Arthur  of  Bretagne  England's  king  and  yours. 

Enter  English  Herald,  with  trumpet, 

E,  Her.  Rejoice,  you  men  oi  Anglers,  ring  your  bells; 
King  John,  your  king  and  England's,  doth  approach. 
Commander  of  this  hot  malicious  day: 
Their  armours,  that  march'd  hence  so  silver-bright. 
Hither  return  all  gilt  with  Frenchmen's  blood; 
There  stuck  no  plume  in  any  English  crest 
That  is  removed  by  a  staflf  of  France ; 
Our  colours  do  return  in  those  same  hands 
That  did  display  them  when  we  first  march'd  forth; 
And,  like  a  jolly  troop  of  huntsmen,  come  321 

Our  lusty  English,  all  with  purpled  hands, 
Dyed  in  the  dying  slaughter  of  their  foes: 
Open  your  gates  and  give  the  victors  way.     , 

First  Cit.  Heralds,  from  off  our  towers  we  might  behold, 
From  first  to  last,  the  onset  and  retire 
Of  both  your  armies ;  whose  equality 
By  our  best  eyes  cannot  be  censured: 
Blood  hath  bought  blood  and  blows  have  answered 

blows ; 
Strength   match'd  with   strength,   and  power   con- 
fronted power:  330 
Both  are  alike ;  and  both  alike  we  like. 
One  must  prove  greatest:  while  they  weigh  so  even, 
We  hold  our  town  for  neither,  yet  for  both. 

45 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Re-enter  the  tzvo  Kings,  with  their  pozvers,  severally. 

K.  John.  France,  hast  thou  yet  more  blood  to  cast  away? 
Say,  shall  the  current  of  our  right  run  on? 
Whose  passage,  vex'd  with  thy  impediment, 
Shall  leave  his  native  channel,  and  o'erswell 
With  course  disturb'd  even  thy  confining  shores. 
Unless  thou  let  his  silver  water  keep 
A  peaceful  progress  to  the  ocean.  340 

K.  Phi.  England,  thou  hast  not  saved  one  drop  of  blood, 
In  this  hot  trial,  more  than  we  of  France; 
Rather,  lost  more.     And  by  this  hand  I  swear, 
That  sways  the  earth  this  climate  overlooks. 
Before  we  will  lay  down  our  just-borne  arms. 
We  '11  put  thee  down,  'gainst  whom  these  arms  we 

bear. 
Or  add  a  royal  number  to  the  dead, 
Gracing  the  scroll  that  tells  of  this  war's  loss 
With  slaughter  coupled  to  the  name  of  kings. 

Bast.  Ha,  majesty!   how  high  thy  glory  towers,  350 

When  the  rich  blood  of  kings  is  set  on  fire! 
O,  now  doth  Death  line  his  dead  chaps  with  steel; 
The  swords  of  soldiers  are  his  teeth,  his  fangs; 
And  now  he  feasts,  mousing  the  flesh  of  men, 
In  undetermined  differences  of  kings. 
Why  stand  these  royal  fronts  amazed  thus? 
Cry  '  havoc!  '  kings;    back  to  the  stained  field, 
You  equal  potents,  fiery  kindled  spirits! 
Then  let  confusion  of  one  part  confirm 
The  other's  peace;  till  then,  blows,  blood,  and  death! 

K.  John.  Whose  party  do  the  townsmen  yet  admit?     361 

K.  Phi.  Speak,  citizens,  for  England;   who's  your  king? 

46 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

First  Cit.  The  king  of  England,  when  we  know  the  king. 

K.  Phi.  Know  him  in  us,  that  here  hold  up  his  right. 

K.  John.  In  us,  that  are  our  own  great  deputy, 
And  bear  possession  of  our  person  here, 
Lord  of  our  presence,  Angiers,  and  of  you. 

First  Cit.  A  greater  power  than  we  denies  all  this; 
And  till  it  be  undoubted,  we  do  lock 
Our  former  scruple  in  our  strong-barr'd  gates;     370 
King'd  of  our  fears,  until  our  fears,  resolved, 
Be  by  some  certain  king  purged  and  deposed. 

Bast.  By  heaven,  these  scroyles  of  Angiers  flout  you, 
kings. 
And  stand  securely  on  their  battlements, 
As  in  a  theatre,  whence  they  gape  and  point 
At  your  industrious  scenes  and  acts  of  death. 
Your  royal  presences  be  ruled  by  me: 
Do  like  the  mutines  of  Jerusalem, 
Be  friends  awhile  and  both  conjointly  bend 
Your  sharpest  deeds  of  malice  on  this  town:       380 
By  east  and  west  let  France  and  England  mount 
Their  battering  cannon  charged  to  the  mouths, 
Till  their  soul-fearing  clamours  have  brawl'd  down 
The  flinty  ribs  of  this  contemptuous  city: 
I  'Id  play  incessantly  upon  these  jades, 
Even  till  unfenced  desolation 
Leave  them  as  naked  as  the  vulgar  air. 
That  done,  dissever  your  united  strengths, 
And  part  your  mingled  colours  once  again; 
Turn  face  to  face  and  bloody  point  to  point;         390 
Then,  in  a  moment.  Fortune  shall  cull  forth 
Out  of  one  side  her  happy  minion. 
To  whom  in  favour  she  shall  give  the  day, 
And  kiss  him  with  a  glorious  victory, 

47 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

How  like  you  this  wild  counsel,  mighty  states? 
Smacks  it  not  something  of  the  policy? 
K.  John.  Now,  by  the  sky  that  hangs  above  our  heads, 
I  like  it  well.     France,  shall  we  knit  our  powers 
And  lay  this  Anglers  even  with  the  ground; 
Then  after  fight  who  shall  be  king  of  it  ?  400 

Bast.  An  if  thou  hast  the  mettle  of  a  king, 

Being  wrong'd  as  we  are  by  this  peevish  town, 
Turn  thou  the  mouth  of  thy  artillery. 
As  we  will  ours,  against  these  saucy  walls; 
And  when  that  we  have  dash'd  them  to  the  ground, 
Why  then  defy  each  other,  and  pell-mell 
Make  work  upon  ourselves,  for  heaven  or  hell. 
K.  Phi.  Let  it  be  so.     Say,  where  will  you  assault? 
K.  John.  We  from  the  west  will  send  destruction 

Into  this  city's  bosom.  410 

Aust.  I  from  the  north. 
K.  Phi.  Our  thunder  from  the  south 

Shall  rain  their  rift  of  bullets  on  this  town. 
Bast.  O  prudent  discipline!     From  north  to  south: 
Austria  and  France  shoot  in  each  other's  mouth : 
I  '11  stir  them  to  it.     Come,  away,  away! 
First  Cit.  Hear  us,  great  kings :  vouchsafe  awhile  to  stay, 
And  I  shall  show  you  peace  and  fair-faced  league; 
Win  you  this  city  without  stroke  or  wound; 
Rescue  those  breathing  lives  to  die  in  beds, 
That  here  come  sacrifices  for  the  field:  420 

Persever  not,  but  hear  me,  mighty  kings. 
K.  John.  Speak  on  with  favour;  we  are  bent  to  hear. 
First  Cit.  That  daughter  there  of  Spain,  the  Lady  Blanch, 
Is  niece  to  England:    look  upon  the  years 
Of  Lewis  the  Dauphin  and  that  lovely  maid: 

4S 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

If  lusty  love  should  go  in  quest  of  beauty, 
Where  should  he  find  it  fairer  than  in  Blanch? 
If  zealous  love  should  go  in  search  of  virtue, 
Where  should  he  find  it  purer  than  in  Blanch? 
If  love  ambitious  sought  a  match  of  birth,  43° 

Whose  veins  bound  richer  blood  than  Lady  Blanch? 
Such  as  she  is,  in  beauty,  virtue,  birth. 
Is  the  young  Dauphin  every  way  complete : 
If  not  complete  of,  say  he  is  not  she; 
And  she  again  wants  nothing,  to  name  want, 
If  want  it  be  not  that  she  is  not  he : 
He  is  the  half  part  of  a  blessed  man, 
Left  to  be  finished  by  such  as  she ; 
And  she  a  fair  divided  excellence, 
Whose  fulness  of  perfection  Ues  in  him.  440 

O,  two  such  silver  currents,  when  they  join. 
Do  glorify  the  banks  that  bound  them  in; 
And  two  such  shores  to  two  such  streams  made  one 
Two  such  controUing  bounds  shall  you  be,  kings. 
To  these  two  princes,  if  you  marry  them. 
This  union  shall  do  more  than  battery  can 
To  our  fast-closed  gates;  for  at  this  match, 
With  swifter  spleen  than  powder  can  enforce. 
The  mouth  of  passage  shall  we  fling  wide  ope, 
And  give  you  entrance :  but  without  this  match,  450 
The  sea  enraged  is  not  half  so  deaf. 
Lions  more  confident,  mountains  and  rocks 
More  free  from  motion,  no,  not  Death  himself 
In  mortal  fury  half  so  peremptory, 
As  we  to  keep  this  city. 
Bast.  Here  's  a  stay 

That  shakes  the  rotten  carcass  of  old  Death 

49 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Out  of  his  rags !     Here  's  a  large  mouth,  indeed, 

That  spits  forth  death  and  mountains,  rocks  and  seas, 

Talks  as  familiarly  of  roaring  lions 

As  maids  of  thirteen  do  of  puppy-dogs!  460 

What  cannoneer  begot  this  lusty  blood? 

He  speaks  plain  cannon  fire,  and  smoke  and  bounce; 

He  gives  the  bastinado  with  his  tongue : 

Our  ears  are  cudgell'd;   not  a  word  of  his 

But  buffets  better  than  a  fist  of  France: 

Zounds!   I  was  never  so  bethump'd  with  words 

Since  I  first  call'd  my  brother's  father  dad. 

Eli.  Son,  list  to  this  conjunction,  make  this  match; 
Give  with  our  niece  a  dowry  large  enough : 
For  by  this  knot  thou  shalt  so  surely  tie  470 

Thy  now  unsured  assurance  to  the  crown. 
That  yon  green  boy  shall  have  no  sun  to  ripe 
The  bloom  that  promiseth  a  mighty  fruit. 
I  see  a  yielding  in  the  looks  of  France ; 
Mark,  how  they  whisper:    urge  them  while  their 

souls 
Are  capable  of  this  ambition. 
Lest  zeal,  now  melted  by  the  windy  breath 
Of  soft  petitions,  pity  and  remorse, 
Cool  and  congeal  again  to  what  it  was. 

First  Cit.  Why  answer  not  the  double  majesties  480 

This  friendly  treaty  of  our  threaten'd  town  ? 

K.  Phi.  Speak  England  first,  that  hath  been  forward  first 
To  speak  unto  this  city:  what  say  you? 

K,  John.  If  that  the  Dauphin  there,  thy  princely  son, 
Can  in  this  book  of  beauty  read  '  I  love,' 
Her  dowry  shall  weigh  equal  with  a  queen : 
For  Anjou,  and  fair  Touraine,  Maine,  Poictiers, 
And  all  that  we  upon  this  side  the  sea, 

50 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Except  this  city  now  by  us  besieged, 

Find  liable  to  our  crown  and  dignity,  490 

Shall  gild  her  bridal  bed,  and  make  her^rich 

In  titles,  honours  and  promotions. 

As  she  in  beauty,  education,  blood. 

Holds  hand  with  any  princess  of  the  world. 

K.  Phi.  What  say'st  thou,  boy?   look  in  the  lady's  face. 

Lezi'.  I  do,  my  lord ;  and  in  her  eye  I  find 
A  wonder,  or  a  wondrous  miracle. 
The  shadow  of  myself  form'd  in  her  eye; 
Which,  being  but  the  shadow  of  your  son, 
Becomes  a  sun  and  makes  your  son  a  shadow:     500 
I  do  protest  I  never  loved  myself 
Till  now  infixed  I  beheld  myself 
Drawn  in  the  flattering  table  of  her  eye. 

[Whispers  with  Blanch. 

Bast.  Drawn  in  the  flattering  table  of  her  eye! 

Hang'd  in  the  frowning  wrinkle  of  her  brow! 
And  quarter'd  in  her  heart!  he  doth  espy 

Himself  love's  traitor:   this  is  pity  now. 
That,  hang'd  and  drawn  and  quarter'd,  there  should 

be 
In  such  a  love  so  vile  a  lout  as  he. 

Blanch.  My  uncle's  will  in  this  respect  is  mine:  510 

If  he  see  aught  m  you  that  makes  him  like, 
That  any  thing  he  sees,  which  moves  his  liking, 
I  can  with  ease  translate  it  to  my  will; 
Or  if  you  will,  to  speak  more  properly, 
I  will  enforce  it  easily  to  my  love. 
Further  I  will  not  flatter  you,  my  lord. 
That  all  I  see  in  you  is  worthy  love, 
Than  this ;  that  nothing  do  I  see  in  you, 

51 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Though   churlish   thoughts   themselves    should   be 

your  judge, 
That  I  can  find  should  merit  any  hate.  520 

K.  John.  What  say  these  young  ones  ?     What  say  you, 

my  niece? 
Blanch.  That  she  is  bound  in  honour  still  to  do 

What  you  in  wisdom  still  vouchsafe  to  say. 
K.  John.  Speak  then.  Prince  Dauphin ;   can  you  love  this 

lady? 
Lew.  Nay,  ask  me  if  I  can  refrain  from  love; 

For  I  do  love  her  most  unfeignedly. 
K.  John.  Then  do  I  give  Volquessen,  Touraine,  Maine, 
Poictiers,  and  Anjou,  these  five  provinces. 
With  her  to  thee;   and  this  addition  more. 
Full  thirty  thousand  marks  of  English  coin.  530 

Philip  of  France,  if  thou  be  pleased  withal. 
Command  thy  son  and  daughter  to  join  hands. 
K.  Phi.  It  likes  us  well;  young  princes,  close  your  hands. 
Aust.  And  your  lips  too;   for  I  am  well  assured 

That  I  did  so  when  I  was  first  assured. 
K.  Phi.  Now,  citizens  of  Anglers,  ope  your  gates, 
Let  in  that  amity  which  you  have  made; 
For  at  Saint  Mary's  chapel  presently 
The  rites  of  marriage  shall  be  solemnized. 
Is  not  the  Lady  Constance  in  this  troop?  540 

I  know  she  is  not,  for  this  match  made  up 
Her  presence  would  have  interrupted  much: 
Where  is  she  and  her  son?  tell  me,  who  knows. 
Lew.  She  is  sad  and  passionate  at  your  highness'  tent. 
K.  Phi.  And,  by  my  faith,  this  league  that  we  have  made 
Will  give  her  sadness  very  little  cure. 
Brother  of  England,  how  may  we  content 
52 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

This  widow  lady?     In  her  right  we  came; 
Which  we,  God  knows,  have  turn'd  another  way, 
To  our  own  vantage. 

K.John.  We  will  heal  up  all;  550 

For  we  '11  create  young  Arthur  Duke  of  Bretagne 
And  Earl  of  Richmond ;  and  this  rich  fair  town 
We  make  him  lord  of.     Call  the  Lady  Constance; 
Some  speedy  messenger  bid  her  repair 
To  our  solemnity :   I  trust  we  shall, 
If  not  fill  up  the  measure  of  her  will. 
Yet  in  some  measure  satisfy  her  so 
That  we  shall  stop  her  exclamation. 
Go  we,  as  well  as  haste  will  suffer  us, 
To  this  unlook'd  for,  unprepared  pomp.  560 

[Exeunt  all  hut  the  Bastard. 

Bast.  Mad  world!   mad  kings!  mad  composition! 
Jphn,  to  stop  Arthur's  title  in  the  whole, 
Hath  willingly  departed  with  a  part: 
And  France,  whose  armour  conscience  buckled  on. 
Whom  zeal  and  charity  brought  to  the  field 
As  God's  own  soldier,  rounded  in  the  ear 
With  that  same  purpose-changer,  that  sly  devil, 
That  broker,  that  still  breaks  the  pate  of  faith, 
That  daily  break-vow,  he  that  wins  of  all, 
Of  kings,  of  beggars,  old  men,  young  men,  maids, 
Who,  having  no  external  thing  to  lose  571 

But  the  word  '  maid,'  cheats  the  poor  maid  of  that, 
That  smooth-faced  gentleman,  tickling  Commodity, 
Commodity,  the  bias  of  the  world. 
The  world,  who  of  itself  is  peised  well. 
Made  to  run  even  upon  even  ground. 
Till  this  advantage,  this  vile-drawing  bias, 

53 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

This  sway  of  motion,  this  Commodity, 

Makes  it  take  head  from  all  indififerency, 

From  all  direction,  purpose,  course,  intent:  580 

And  this  same  bias,  this  Commodity, 

This  bawd,  this  broker,  this  all-changing  word, 

Clapp'd  on  the  outward  eye  of  fickle  France, 

Hath  drawn  him  from  his  own  determined  aid, 

From  a  resolved  and  honourable  war. 

To  a  most  base  and  vile-concluded  peace. 

And  why  rail  I  on  this  Commodity? 

But  for  because  he  hath  not  woo'd  me  yet: 

Not  that  I  have  the  power  to  clutch  my  hand, 

When  his  fair  angels  would  salute  my  palm;         590 

But  for  my  hand,  as  unattempted  yet. 

Like  a  poor  beggar,  raileth  on  the  rich. 

Well,  whiles  I  am  a  beggar,  I  will  rail 

And  say  there  is  no  sin  but  to  be  rich; 

And  being  rich,  my  virtue  then  shall  be 

To  say  there  is  no  vice  but  beggary. 

Since  kings  break  faith  upon  commodity. 

Gain,  be  my  lord,  for  I  will  worship  thee.  [Exit. 

ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  1. 

The  French  King's  Pavilion. 

Enter  Constance,  Arthur,  and  Salisbury. 

Const.  Gone  to  be  married!  gone  to  swear  a  peace! 

False  blood  to  false  blood  join'd!  gone  to  be  friends! 
Shall  Lewis  have  Blanch,  and  Blanch  those  prov- 
inces ? 

54 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

It  is  not  so  ;  thou  hast  misspoke,  misheard  ; 

Be  well  advised,  tell  o'er  thy  tale  again: 

It  cannot  be;  thou  dost  but  say  'tis  so: 

I  trust  I  may  not  trust  thee ;   for  thy  word 

Is  but  the  vain  breath  of  a  common  man: 

Believe  me,  I  do  not  believe  thee,  man; 

I  have  a  king's  oath  to  the  contrary.  lo 

Thou  shalt  be  punish'd  for  thus  frighting  me. 

For  I  am  sick  and  capable  of  fears, 

Oppress'd  with  wrongs  and  therefore  full  of  fears, 

A  widow,  husbandless,  subject  to  fears, 

A  woman,  naturally  born  to  fears; 

And  though  thou  now  confess  thou  didst  but  jest, 

With  my  vex'd  spirits  I  cannot  take  a  truce. 

But  they  will  quake  and  tremble  all  this  day. 

What  dost  thou  mean  by  shaking  of  thy  head? 

Why  dost  thou  look  so  sadly  on  my  son?  20 

What  means  that  hand  upon  that  breast  of  thine? 

Why  holds  thine  eye  that  lamentable  rheum, 

Like  a  proud  river  peering  o'er  his  bounds? 

Be  these  sad  signs  confirmers  of  thy  words? 

Then  speak  again;  not  all  thy  former  tale, 

But  this  one  word,  whether  thy  tale  be  true. 

Sal.  As  true  as  I  believe  you  think  them  false 
That  give  you  cause  to  prove  my  saying  true. 

Const.  O,  if  thou  teach  me  to  believe  this  sorrow. 

Teach  thou  this  sorrow  how  to  make  me  die,  30 

And  let  belief  and  life  encounter  so 

As  doth  the  fury  of  two  desperate  men 

Which  in  the  very  meeting  fall  and  die. 

Lewis  marry  Blanch!     O  boy,  then  where  art  thou? 

France  friend  with  England,  what  becomes  of  me? 

55 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Fellow,  be  gone:  I  cannot  brook  thy  sight: 
This  news  hath  made  thee  a  most  ugly  man. 

Sal.  What  other  harm  have  I,  good  lady,  done, 
But  spoke  the  harm  that  is  by  others  done? 

Const.  .Which  harm  within  itself  so  heinous  is  40 

As  it  makes  harmful  all  that  speak  of  it. 

Arth.  I  do  beseech  you,  madam,  be  content. 

Const.  If  thou,  that  bid'st  me  be  content,  wert  grim, 
Ugly  and  slanderous  to  thy  mother's  womb, 
Full  of  unpleasing  blots  and  sightless  stains. 
Lame,  fooHsh,  crooked,  swart,  prodigious, 
Patch'd  with  foul  moles  and  eye-offending  marks, 
I  would  not  care,  I  then  would  be  content, 
For  then  I  should  not  love  thee,  no,  nor  thou 
Become  thy  great  birth  nor  deserve  a  crown.         50 
But  thou  art  fair,  and  at  thy  birth,  dear  boy, 
Nature  and  Fortune  join'd  to  make  thee  great: 
Of  Nature's  gifts  thou  mayst  with  lilies  boast 
And  with  the  half-blown  rose.     But  Fortune,  O, 
She  is  corrupted,  changed  and  won  from  thee; 
She  adulterates  hourly  with  thine  uncle  John, 
And  with  her  golden  hand  hath  pluck'd  on  France 
To  tread  down  fair  respect  of  sovereignty. 
And  made  his  majesty  the  bawd  to  theirs. 
France  is  a  bawd  to  Fortune  and  King  John,  60 

That  strumpet  Fortune,  that  usurping  John! 
Tell  me,  thou  fellow,  is  not  France  forsworn  ? 
Envenom  him  with  words,  or  get  thee  gone. 
And  leave  those  woes  alone  which  I  alone 
Am  bound  to  under-bear. 

Sal.  Pardon  me,  madam, 

I  may  not  go  without  you  to  the  kings. 
56 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Const.  Thou  mayst,  thou  shalt ;  I  will  not  go  with  thee : 
I  will  instruct  my  sorrows  to  be  proud ; 
For  grief  is  proud  and  makes  his  owner  stoop. 
To  me  and  to  the  state  of  my  great  grief  70 

Let  kings  assemble ;  for  my  grief  's  so  great 
That  no  supporter  but  the  huge  firm  earth 
Can  hold  it  up :  here  I  and  sorrows  sit ; 
Here  is  my  throne,  bid  kings  come  bow  to  it. 

[Seats  herself  on  the  ground. 

Enter  King  John,  King  Philip,  Lezvis,  Blanch,  Elinor, 
the  Bastard,  Austria,  and  Attendants. 

K.  Phi.  'Tis  true,  fair  daughter ;   and  this  blessed  day 
Ever  in  France  shall  be  kept  festival : 
To  solemnize  this  day  the  glorious  sun 
Stays  in  his  course  and  plays  the  alchemist, 
Turning  with  splendour  of  his  precious  eye 
The  meagre  cloddy  earth  to  glittering  gold :  80 

The  yearly  course  that  brings  this  day  about 
Shall  never  see  it  but  a  holiday. 
Const.  A  wicked  day,  and  not  a  holy  day !  [Rising. 

What  hath  this  day  deserved?   what  hath  it  done, 
That  it  in  golden  letters  should  be  set 
Among  the  high  tides  in  the  calendar  ? 
Nay,  rather  turn  this  day  out  of  the  week, 
This  day  of  shame,  oppression,  perjury. 
Or,  if  it  must  stand  still,  let  wives  with  child 
Pray  that  their  burthens  may  not  fall  this  day,        90 
Lest  that  their  hopes  prodigiously  be  cross'd : 
But  on  this  day  let  seamen  fear  no  wreck ; 
No  bargains  break  that  are  not  this  day  made : 
This  day,  all  things  begun  come  to  ill  end, 
57 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Yea,  faith  itself  to  hollow  falsehood  change ! 
K.  Phi.  By  heaven,  lady,  you  shall  have  no  cause 
To  curse  the  fair  proceedings  of  this  day: 
Have  I  not  pawn'd  to  you  my  majesty? 

Const.  You  have  beguiled  me  w^ith  a  counterfeit 

Resembling  majesty,  which,  being  touch'd  and  tried, 
Proves  valueless  :   you  are  forsworn,  forsworn  ;     loi 
You  came  in  arms  to  spill  mine  enemies'  blood. 
But  now  in  arms  you  strengthen  it  with  yours: 
The  grappling  vigour  and  rough  frown  of  war 
Is  cold  in  amity  and  painted  peace, 
And  our  oppression  hath  made  up  this  league. 
Arm,  arm,  you  heavens,  against  these  perjured  kings ! 
A  widow  cries  ;   be  husband  to  me,  heavens  ! 
Let  not  the  hours  of  this  ungodly  day 
Wear  out  the  day  in  peace;   but,  ere  sunset,  no 

Set  armed  discord  'twixt  these  perjured  kings! 
Hear  me,  O,  hear  me ! 

'Aust.  Lady  Constance,  peace ! 

Const.  War !  war !  no  peace !  peace  is  to  me  a  war. 
O  Lymoges !    O  Austria !    thou  dost  shame 
That  bloody  spoil :    thou   slave,  thou  wretch,  thou 

coward ! 
Thou  little  valiant,  great  in  villany ! 
Thou  ever  strong  upon  the  stronger  side ! 
Thou  Fortune's  champion,  that  dost  never  fight 
But  when  her  humorous  ladyship  is  by 
To  teach  thee  safety!   thou  art  perjured  too,  120 

And  soothest  up  greatness.     What  a  fool  art  thou, 
A  ramping  fool,  to  brag  and  stamp  and  swear 
Upon  my  party!     Thou  cold-blooded  slave, 
Hast  thou  not  spoke  like  thunder  on  my  side, 

58 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Been  sworn  my  soldier,  bidding-  me  depend 
Upon  thy  stars,  thy  fortune  and  thy  strength, 
And  dost  thou  now  fall  over  to  thy  foes  ? 
Thou  wear  a  lion's  hide!    doff  it  for  shame, 
And  hang  a  calf's-skin  on  those  recreant  limbs. 

Aiist.  O,  that  a  man  should  speak  those  words  to  me! 

Bast.  And  hang  a  calf's-skin  on  those  recreant  limbs.   131 

Aust.  Thou  darest  not  say  so,  villain,  for  thy  life. 

Bast.  And  hang  a  calf's-skin  on  those  recreant  limbs. 

K.  John.  We  like  not  this  ;   thou  dost  forget  thyself. 

Enter  Pandulph. 

K.  Phi.  Here  comes  the  holy  legate  of  the  pope. 

Pand.  Hail,  you  anointed  deputies  of  heaven! 
To  thee,  King  John,  my  holy  errand  is. 
I  Pandulph,  of  fair  Milan  cardinal, 
And  from  Pope  Innocent  the  legate  here, 
Do  in  his  name  religiously  demand  140 

Why  thou  against  the  church,  our  holy  mother, 
So  wilfully  doth  spurn  ;  and  force  perforce 
Keep  Stephen  Langton,  chosen  archbishop 
Of  Canterbury,  from  that  holy  see: 
This,  in  our  foresaid  holy  father's  name, 
Pope  Innocent,  I  do  demand  of  thee. 

K.  John.  What  earthly  name  to  interrogatories 
Can  task  the  free  breath  of  a  sacred  king? 
Thou  canst  not,  cardinal,  devise  a  name 
So  slight,  unworthy  and  ridiculous,  150 

To  charge  me  to  an  answer,  as  the  pope. 
Tell  him  this  tale;   and  from  the  mouth  of  England 
Add  thus  much  more,  that  no  ItaHan  priest 
Shall  tithe  or  toll  in  our  dominions; 

59 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

But  as  we,  under  heaven,  are  supreme  head, 

So  under  Hirn  that  great  supremacy, 

Where  we  do  reign,  we  will  alone  uphold, 

Without  the  assistance  of  a  mortal  hand: 

So  tell  the  pope,  all  reverence  set  apart 

To  him  and  his  usurp'd  authority.  i6o 

K.  Phi.  Brother  of  England,  you  blaspheme  in  this. 

K.  John.  Though  you  and  all  the  kings  of  Christendom 
Are  led  so  grossly  by  this  meddling  priest, 
Dreading  the  curse  that  money  may  buy  out; 
And  by  the  merit  of  vile  gold,  dross,  dust, 
Purchase  corrupted  pardon  of  a  man, 
Who  in  that  sale  sells  pardon  for  himself, 
Though  you  and  all  the  rest  so  grossly  led 
This  juggling  witchcraft  with  revenue  cherish, 
Yet  I  alone,  alone  do  me  oppose  170 

Against  the  pope  and  count  his  friends  my  foes. 

Pand.  Then,  by  the  lawful  power  that  I  have. 

Thou  shalt  stand  cursed  and  excommunicate: 
And  blessed  shall  he  be  that  doth  revolt 
From  his  allegiance  to  an  heretic; 
And  meritorious  shall  that  hand  be  call'd 
Canonized  and  worshipp'd  as  a  saint, 
That  takes  away  by  any  secret  course 
Thy  hateful  life. 

Const.  O,  lawful  let  it  be 

That  I  have  room  with  Rome  to  curse  awhile!     1 8a 

Good  father  cardinal,  cry  thou  amen 

To  my  keen  curses  ;  for  without  my  wrong 

There  is  no  tongue  hath  power  to  curse  him  right. 

Pand.  There  's  law  and  warrant,  lady,  for  my  curse. 

Const.  And  for  mine  too:   when  law  can  do  no  right, 

60 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Let  it  be  lawful  that  law  bar  no  wrong: 

Law  cannot  give  my  child  his  kingdom  here, 

For  he  that  holds  his  kingdom  holds  the  law; 

Therefore,  since  law  itself  is  perfect  wrong, 

How  can  the  law  forbid  my  tongue  to  curse?       190 

Pand.  Philip  of  France,  on  peril  of  a  curse, 
Let  go  the  hand  of  that  arch-heretic; 
And  raise  the  power  of  France  upon  his  head. 
Unless  he  do  submit  himself  to  Rome. 

Eli.  Look'st  thou  pale,  France?  do  not  let  go  thy  hand. 

Const.  Look  to  that,  devil!   lest  that  France  repent, 
And  by  disjoining  hands,  hell  lose  a  soul. 

Aust.  King  Philip,  listen  to  the  cardinal. 

Bast.  And  hang  a  calf's-skin  on  his  recreant  limbs. 

Aust.  Well,  ruffian,  I  must  pocket  up  these  wrongs,  200 
Because — 

Bast.  Your  breeches  best  may  carry  them. 

K.  John.  Philip,  what  say'st  thou  to  the  cardinal? 

Const.  What  should  he  say,  but  as  the  cardinal? 

Lew.  Bethink  you,  father;  for  the  difYerence 
Is  purchase  of  a  heavy  curse  from  Rome, 
Or  the  light  loss  of  England  for  a  friend: 
Forego  the  easier. 

Blanch.  That 's  the  curse  of  Rome. 

Const.  O  Lewis,  stand  fast!  the  devil  tempts  thee  here 
In  likeness  of  a  new  untrimmed  bride. 

Blanch.  The  Lady  Constance  speaks  not  from  her  faith. 
But  from  her  need. 

Const.  O,  if  thou  grant  my  need,  211 

Which  only  lives  but  by  the  death  of  faith. 
That  need  must  needs  infer  this  principle. 
That  faith  would  live  again  by  death  of  need. 

61 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

O  then,  tread  down  my  need,  and  faith  mounts  up; 
Keep  my  need  up,  and  faith  is  trodden  down! 

K.  John.  The  king  is  moved,  and  answers  not  to  this. 

Const.  O,  be  removed  from  him,  and  answer  well! 

Aiist.  Do  so,  King  Philip;   hang  no  more  in  doubt. 

Bast.  Hang  nothing  but  a  calf's-skin,  most  sweet  lout. 

K.  Phi.  I  am  perplex'd,  and  know  not  what  to  say.     221 

Pand.  What  canst  thou  say  but  will  perplex  thee  more, 
If  thou  stand  excommunicate  and  cursed? 

K.  Phi.  Good  reverend  father,  make  my  person  yours, 
And  tell  me  how  you  would  bestow  yourself. 
This  royal  hand  and  mine  are  newly  knit, 
And  the  conjunction  of  our  inward  souls 
Married  in  league,  coupled  and  Hnk'd  together 
With  all  religious  strength  of  sacred  vows; 
The  latest  breath  that  gave  the  sound  of  words     230 
Was  deep-sworn  faith,  peace,  amity,  true  love 
Between  our  kingdoms  and  our  royal  selves, 
And  even  before  this  truce,  but  new  before. 
No  longer  than  we  well  could  wash  our  hands 
To  clap  this  royal  bargain  up  of  peace. 
Heaven  knows,  they  were  besmear'd  and  overstain'd 
With  slaughter's  pencil,  where  revenge  did  paint 
The  fearful  difference  of  incensed  kings : 
And  shall  these  hands,  so  lately  purged  of  blood. 
So  newly  join'd  in  love,  so  strong  in  both,  240 

Unyoke  this  seizure  and  this  kind  regreet? 
Play  fast  and  loose  with  faith?   so  jest  with  heaven, 
Make  such  unconstant  children  of  ourselves. 
As  now  again  to  snatch  our  palm  from  palm, 
Unswear  faith  sworn,  and  on  the  marriage-bed 
Of  smiHng  peace  to  march  a  bloody  host, 

62 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

And  make  a  riot  on  the  gentle  brow 

Of  true  sincerity?     O,  holy  sir, 

My  reverend  father,  let  it  not  be  so! 

Out  of  your  grace,  devise,  ordain,  impose  250 

Some  gentle  order;  and  then  we  shall  be  blest 

To  do  your  pleasure  and  continue  friends. 

Pand.  All  form  is  formless,  order  orderless. 
Save  what  is  opposite  to  England's  love. 
Therefore  to  arms!   be  champion  of  our  church. 
Or  let  the  church,  our  mother,  breathe  her  curse, 
A  mother's  curse,  on  her  revolting  son. 
France,  thou  mayst  hold  a  serpent  by  the  tongue, 
A  chafed  lion  by  the  mortal  paw, 
A  fasting  tiger  safer  by  the  tooth,  260 

Than  keep  in  peace  that  hand  which  thou  dost  hold. 

K.  Phi.  I  may  disjoin  my  hand,  but  not  my  faith. 

Pand.  So  makest  thou  faith  an  enemy  to  faith; 
And  like  a  civil  war  set'st  oath  to  oath. 
Thy  tongue  against  thy  tongue.     O,  let  thy  vow 
First  made  to  heaven,  first  be  to  heaven  perform'd, 
That  is,  tp  be  the  champion  of  our  church. 
What  since  thou  sworest  is  sworn  against  thyself 
And  may  not  be  performed  by  thyself, 
For  that  which  thou  hast  sworn  to  do  amiss         270 
Is  not  amiss  when  it  is  truly  done. 
And  being  not  done,  where  doing  tends  to  ill, 
The  truth  is  then  most  done  not  doing  it: 
The  better  act  of  purposes  mistook 
Is  to  mistake  again;   though  indirect. 
Yet  indirection  thereby  grows  direct, 
And  falsehood  falsehood  cures,  as  fire  cools  fire 
Within  the  scorched  veins  of  one  new-burn'd. 

63 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

It  is  religion  that  doth  make  vows  kept; 

But  thou  hast  sworn  against  religion,  280 

By    what    thou    swear'st    against    the    thing    thou 

swear'st, 
And  mak'st  an  oath  the  surety  for  thy  truth 
Against  an  oath :  the  truth  thou  art  unsure 
To  swear,  swears  only  not  to  be  forsworn; 
Else  what  a  mockery  should  it  be  to  swear! 
But  thou  dost  swear  only  to  be  forsworn; 
And  most  forsworn,  to  keep  what  thou  dost  swear. 
Therefore  thy  later  vows  against  thy  first 
Is  in  thyself  rebellion  to  thyself ; 
And  better  conquest  never  canst  thou  make  290 

Than  arm  thy  constant  and  thy  nobler  parts 
Against  these  giddy  loose  suggestions: 
Upon  which  better  part  our  prayers  come  in, 
If  thou  vouchsafe  them.    But  if  not,  then  know 
The  peril  of  our  curses  light  on  thee 
So  heavy  as  thou  shalt  not  shake  them  of¥, 
But  in  despair  die  under  their  black  weight. 

Aust.  Rebellion,  flat  rebellion! 

Bast.  Wiirt  not  be? 

Will  not  a  calf's-skin  stop  that  mouth  of  thine? 

Lew.  Father,  to  arms! 

Blanch.  Upon  thy  wedding-day?  300 

Against  the  blood  that  thou  hast  married? 
What,  shall  our  feast  be  kept  with  slaughtered  men? 
Shall  braying  trumpets  and  loud  churlish  drums, 
Clamours  of  hell,  be  measures  to  our  pomp? 
O  husband,  hear  me!   ay,  alack,  how  new 
Is  husband  in  my  mouth!    even  for  that  name, 
Which  till  this  time  my  tongue  did  ne'er  pronounce, 
Upon  my  knee  I  beg,  go  not  to  arms 

64 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Against  mine  uncle. 
Const.  O,  upon  my  knee, 

Made  hard  with  kneeling,  I  do  pray  to  thee,  310 

Thou  virtuous  Dauphin,  alter  not  the  doom 

Forethought  by  heaven ! 
Blanch.  Now  shall  I  see  thy  love :  what  motive  may 

Be  stronger  with  thee  than  the  name  of  wife? 
Const.  That  which  upholdeth  him  that  thee  upholds, 

His  honour :   O,  thine  honour,  Lewis,  thine  honour ! 
Lew.  I  muse  your  majesty  doth  seem  so  cold. 

When  such  profound  respects  do  pull  you  on. 
Pand.  I  will  denounce  a  curse  upon  his  head. 
K.  Phi.  Thou  shalt  not  need.     England,  I  will  fall  from 
thee.  320 

Const.  O  fair  return  of  banish'd  majesty! 
Eli.  O  foul  revolt  of  French  inconstancy ! 
K.  John.  France,  thou  shalt  rue  this  hour  within  this  hour. 
Bast.  Old  Time  the  clock-setter,  that  bald  sexton  Time, 

Is  it  as  he  will  ?  well  then,  France  shall  rue. 
Blanch.  The  sun  's  o'ercast  with  blood  :   fair  day,  adieu ! 

Which  is  the  side  that  I  must  go  withal  ? 

I  am  with  both  :   each  army  hath  a  hand ; 

And  in  their  rage,  I  having  hold  of  both, 

They  whirl  asunder  and  dismember  me.  330 

Husband,  I  cannot  pray  that  thou  mayst  win  ; 

Uncle,  I  needs  must  pray  that  thou  mayst  lose ; 

Father,  I  may  not  wish  the  fortune  thine  ; 

Grandam,  I  will  not  wish  thy  wishes  thrive : 

Whoever  wins,  on  that  side  shall  I  lose ; 

Assured  loss  before  the  match  be  play'd. 
Lew,  Lady,  with  me,  with  me  thy  fortune  lies. 
Blanch.  There  where  my  fortune  lives,  there  my  life  dies. 

65 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

K.  John.  Cousin,  go  draw  our  puissance  together. 

[Exit  Bastard. 
France,  I  am  burn'd  up  with  inflaming  wrath ;      340 
A  rage  whose  heat  hath  this  condition, 
That  nothing  can  allay,  nothing  but  blood. 
The  blood,  and  dearest-valued  blood,  of  France. 

K.  Phi.  Thy  rage  shall  burn  thee  up,  and  thou  shalt  turn 
To  ashes,  ere  our  blood  shall  quench  that  fire : 
Look  to  thyself,  thou  art  in  jeopardy. 

K.  John.  No  more  than  he  that  threats.     To  arms  let 's 
hie !  [Exeunt. 


Scene  II. 

The  same.     Plains  near  Anglers. 

Alarums,  excursions.     Enter  the  Bastard,  with 
Austria's  head. 

Bast.  Now,  by  my  life,  this  day  grows  wondrous  hot ; 
Some  airy  devil  hovers  in  the  sky. 
And  pours  down  mischief.     Austria's  head  lie  there, 
While  Philip  breathes. 

Enter  King  John,  Arthur  and  Hubert. 

K.  John.  Hubert,  keep  this  boy.     Philip,  make  up : 
My  mother  is  assailed  in  our  tent. 
And  ta'en,  I  fear. 

Bast.  My  lord,  I  rescued  her ; 

Her  highness  is  in  safety,  fear  you  not : 
But  on,  my  liege ;    for  very  Httle  pains 
Will  bring  this  labour  to  an  happy  end.  {Exeunt.     10 

66 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  III.  Sc.  iii. 

Scene  III. 

The  same. 

Alarums,  excursions,  retreat.     Enter  King  John,  Elinor, 
Arthur,  the  Bastard,  Hubert,  and  Lords. 

K.  John.   [To  Elinor]   So  shall  it  be;    your  grace  shall 
stay  behind 
So  strongly  guarded.      [To  Arthur]   Cousin,  look  not 

sad: 
Thy  grandam  loves  thee ;   and  thy  uncle  will 
As  dear  be  to  thee  as  thy  father  was. 

Arth.  O,  this  will  make  my  mother  die  with  grief ! 

K.John.   [To  the  Bastard]   Cousin,  away  for  England! 
haste  before : 
And,  ere  our  coming,  see  thou  shake  the  bags 
Of  hoarding  abbots  ;   imprisoned  angels 
Set  at  liberty :  the  fat  ribs  of  peace 
Must  by  the  hungry  now  be  fed  upon  :  lo 

Use  our  commission  in  his  utmost  force. 

Bast,  Bell,  book,  and  candle  shall  not  drive  me  back, 
When  gold  and  silver  becks  me  to  come  on. 
I  leave  your  highness.     Grandam,  I  will  pray, 
If  ever  I  remember  to  be  holy, 
For  your  fair  safety ;  so,  I  kiss  your  hand. 

Eli.  Farewell,  gentle  cousin. 

K.  John.  Coz,  farewell.     [Exit  Bastard. 

Eli.  Come  hither,  little  kinsman ;   hark,  a  word. 

K.  John.  Come  hither,  Hubert.     O  my  gentle  Hubert, 
We  owe  thee  much  !  within  this  wall  of  flesh  20 

There  is  a  soul  counts  thee  her  creditor, 
And  with  advantage  means  to  pay  thy  love : 
And,  my  good  friend,  thy  voluntary  oath 
Lives  in  this  bosom,  dearly  cherished. 

67 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Give  me  thy  hand.     I  had  a  thing  to  say, 
But  I  will  fit  it  with  some  better  time. 
By  heaven,  Hubert,  I  am  almost  ashamed 
To  say  what  good  respect  I  have  of  thee. 
Huh.  I  am  much  bounden  to  your  majesty.  29 

K.  John.  Good  friend,  thou  hast  no  cause  to  say  so  yet, 
But  thou  shalt  have  ;  and  creep  time  ne'er  so  slow, 
Yet  it  shall  come  for  me  to  do  thee  good. 
I  had  a  thing  to  say,  but  let  it  go: 
The  sun  is  in  the  heaven,  and  the  proud  day. 
Attended  with  the  pleasures  of  the  world, 
Is  all  too  wanton  and  too  full  of  gawds 
To  give  me  audience :   if  the  midnight  bell 
Did,  with  his  iron  tongue  and  brazen  mouth, 
Sound  on  into  the  drowsy  ear  of  night ; 
If  this  same  were  a  churchyard  where  we  stand,      40 
And  thou  possessed  with  a  thousand  wrongs  ; 
Or  if  that  surly  spirit,  melancholy, 
Had  baked  thy  blood  and  made  it  heavy-thick. 
Which  else  runs  tickling  up  and  down  the  veins. 
Making  that  idiot,  laughter,  keep  men's  eyes 
And  strain  their  cheeks  to  idle  merriment, 
A  passion  hateful  to  my  purposes ; 
Or  if  that  thou  couldst  see  me  without  eyes, 
Hear  me  without  thine  ears,  and  make  reply 
Without  a  tongue,  using  conceit  alone,  50 

Without  eyes,  ears  and  harmful  sound  of  words, 
Then,  in  despite  of  brooded  watchful  day, 
I  would  into  thy  bosom  pour  my  thoughts : 
But,  ah,  I  will  not !   yet  I  love  thee  well ; 
And,  by  my  troth,  I  think  thou  lovest  me  well. 
Huh,  So  well,  that  what  you  bid  me  undertake, 

68 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Though  that  my  death  were  adjunct  to  my  act, 
By  heaven,  I  would  do  it. 

K.  John.  Do  not  I  know  thou  wouldst  ? 

Good  Hubert,  Hubert,  Hubert,  throw  thine  eye 
On  yon  young  boy :  I  '11  tell  thee  what,  my  friend, 
He  is  a  very  serpent  in  my  way ;  6i 

And  wheresoe'er  this  foot  of  mine  doth  tread, 
He  lies  before  me :  dost  thou  understand  me  ? 
Thou  art  his  keeper. 

Huh.  And  I  '11  keep  him  so, 

That  he  shall  not  offend  your  majesty. 

K.  John,  Death. 

Huh.  My  lord? 

K.  John,  A  grave. 

Huh.  He  shall  not  live. 

K.  John.  Enough. 

I  could  be  merry  now.     Hubert,  I  love  thee; 
Well,  I  '11  not  say  what  I  intend  for  thee : 
Remember,     Madam,  fare  you  well : 
I  '11  send  those  powers  o'er  to  your  majesty.  yo 

Eli.  My  blessing  go  with  thee ! 

K.  John.  For  England,  cousin,  go : 

Hubert  shall  be  your  man,  attend  on  you 
With  all  true  duty.     On  toward  Calais,  ho ! 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  IV. 

The  same.     The  French  King's  tent. 

Enter  King  Philip,  Lezuis,  Pandnlph,  and  Attendants. 

K.  Phi.  So,  by  a  roaring  tempest  on  the  flood, 
A  whole  armado  of  convicted  sail 
69 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Is  scattered  and  disjoin'd  from  fellowship. 
Pand.  Courage  and  comfort!   all  shall  yet  go  well. 
K.  Phi.  What  can  go  well,  when  we  have  run  so  ill  ? 

Are  we  not  beaten  ?     Is  not  Anglers  lost  ? 

Arthur  ta'en  prisoner?   divers  dear  friends  slain? 

And  bloody  England  into  England  gone, 

O'erbearing  interruption,  spite  of  France? 
Lew.  What  he  hath  won,  that  hath  he  fortified :  lo 

So  hot  a  speed  with  such  advice  disposed. 

Such  temperate  order  in  so  fierce  a  cause, 

Doth  want  example :   who  hath  read  or  heard 

Of  any  kindred  action  like  to  this  ? 
K.  Phi.  Well  could  I  bear  that  England  had  this  praise 

So  we  could  find  some  pattern  of  our  shame. 

Enter  Constance. 

Look,  who  comes  here !  a  grave  unto  a  soul ; 

Holding  the  eternal  spirit,  against  her  will, 

In  the  vile  prison  of  afflicted  breath. 

I  prithee,  lady,  go  away  with  me.  20 

Const.  Lo,  now !  now  see  the  issue  of  your  peace. 
K.  Phi.  Patience,  good  lady !   comfort,  gentle  Constance ! 
Const.  No,  I  defy  all  counsel,  all  redress. 

But  that  which  ends  all  counsel,  true  redress, 

Death,  death ;   O  amiable  lovely  death ! 

Thou  odoriferous  stench !   sound  rottenness  ! 

Arise  forth  from  the  couch  of  lasting  night, 

Thou  hate  and  terror  to  prosperity. 

And  I  will  kiss  thy  detestable  bones 

And  put  my  eyeballs  in  thy  vanity  brows  30 

And  ring  these  fingers  with  thy  household  worms 

And  stop  this  gap  of  breath  with  fulsome  dust 

70 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

And  be  a  carrion  monster  like  thyself : 
Come,  grin  on  me,  and  I  will  think  thou  smilest, 
And  buss  thee  as  thy  wife.     Misery's  love, 
O,  come  to  me ! 

K.  Phi.  O  fair  affliction,  peace! 

Const.  No,  no,  I  will  not,  having-  breath  to  cry  : 

O,  that  my  tongue  were  in  the  thunder's  mouth ! 
Then  with  a  passion  would  I  shake  the  world ; 
And  rouse  from  sleep  that  fell  anatomy  40 

Which  cannot  hear  a  lady's  feeble  voice, 
Which  scorns  a  modern  invocation. 

Pand.  Lady,  you  utter  madness,  and  not  sorrow. 

Const.  Thou  are  not  holy  to  belie  me  so ; 
I  am  not  mad :  this  hair  I  tear  is  mine ; 
My  name  is  Constance ;    I  was  Geffrey's  wife ; 
Young  Arthur  is  my  son,  and  he  is  lost : 
I  am  not  mad :  I  would  to  heaven  I  were ! 
For  then,  'tis  like  I  should  forget  myself : 
O,  if  I  could,  what  grief  should  I  forget !  50 

Preach  some  philosophy  to  make  me  mad, 
And  thou  shalt  be  canonized,  cardinal; 
For,  being  not  mad  but  sensible  of  grief, 
My  reasonable  part  produces  reason 
How  I  may  be  deliver'd  of  these  woes, 
And  teaches  me  to  kill  or  hang  myself : 
If  I  were  mad,  I  should  forget  my  son, 
Or  madly  think  a  babe  of  clouts  were  he : 
I  am  not  mad ;  too  well,  too  well  I  feel 
The  different  plague  of  each  calamity.  60 

K.  Phi.  Bind  up  those  tresses.    O,  what  love  I  note 
In  the  fair  multitude  of  those  her  hairs ! 
Where  but  by  chance  a  silver  drop  hath  fallen, 

71 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Even  to  that  drop  ten  thousand  wiry  friends 
Do  glue  themselves  in  sociable  grief, 
Like  true,  inseparable,  faithful  loves. 
Sticking  together  in  calamity. 

Const.  To  England,  if  you  will. 

K.  Phi.  Bind  up  your  hairs. 

Const.  Yes,  that  I  will ;  and  wherefore  will  I  do  it  ? 

I  tore  them  from  their  bonds  and  cried  aloud,        70 
'  O  that  these  hands  could  so  redeem  my  son. 
As  they  have  given  these  hairs  their  liberty ! ' 
But  now  I  envy  at  their  liberty. 
And  will  again  commit  them  to  their  bonds, 
Because  my  poor  child  is  a  prisoner. 
And,  father  cardinal,  I  have  heard  you  say 
That  we  shall  see  and  know  our  friends  in  heaven : 
If  that  be  true,  I  shall  see  my  boy  again ; 
For  since  the  birth  of  Cain,  the  first  male  child. 
To  him  that  did  but  yesterday  suspire,  80 

There  was  not  such  a  gracious  creature  born. 
But  now  will  canker  sorrow  eat  my  bud 
And  chase  the  native  beauty  from  his  cheek, 
And  he  will  look  as  hollow  as  a  ghost. 
As  dim  and  meagre  as  an  ague's  fit. 
And  so  he  '11  die ;  and,  rising  so  again, 
When  I  shall  meet  him  in  the  court  of  heaven 
,  I  shall  not  know  him :  therefore  never,  never 
Must  I  behold  my  pretty  Arthur  more. 

Pand.  You  hold  too  heinous  a  respect  of  grief.  90 

Const.  He  talks  to  me  that  never  had  a  son. 

K.  Phi.  You  are  as  fond  of  grief  as  of  your  child. 

Const.  Grief  fills  the  room  up  of  my  absent  child. 
Lies  in  his  bed,  walks  up  and  down  with  me, 

72 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Puts  on  his  pretty  looks,  repeats  his  words, 

Remembers  me  of  all  his  gracious  parts, 

Stuffs  out  his  vacant  garments  with  his  form ; 

Then  have  I  reason  to  be  fond  of  grief. 

Fare  you  well :  had  you  such  a  loss  as  I, 

I  could  give  better  comfort  than  you  do.  lOO 

I  will  not  keep  this  form  upon  my  head, 

When  there  is  such  disorder  in  my  wit. 

O  Lord  !  my  boy,  my  Arthur,  my  fair  son  ! 

My  life,  my  joy,  my  food,  my  all  the  world! 

My  widow-comfort,  and  my  sorrows'  cure  !         [Exit. 

K.  Phi.  I  fear  some  outrage,  and  I  '11  follow  her.       [Exit. 

Lew.  There  's  nothing  in  this  w^orld  can  make  me  joy : 
Life  is  as  tedious  as  a  twice-told  tale 
Vexing  the  dull  ear  of  a  drowsy  man ; 
And  bitter  shame  hath  spoil'd  the  sweet  world's  taste. 
That  it  yields  nought  but  shame  and  bitterness.      iii 

Pand.  Before  the  curing  of  a  strong  disease. 
Even  in  the  instant  of  repair  and  health, 
The  fit  is  strongest ;  evils  that  take  leave. 
On  their  departure  most  of  all  show  evil : 
What  have  you  lost  by  losing  of  this  day  ? 

Lew.  All  days  of  glory,  joy  and  happiness. 

Pand.  If  you  had  won  it,  certainly  you  had. 

No,  no ;  when  Fortune  means  to  men  most  good. 
She  looks  upon  them  with  a  threatening  eye.  120 

'Tis  strange  to  think  how  much  King  John  hath  lost 
In  this  which  he  accounts  so  clearly  won : 
Are  not  you  grieved  that  Arthur  is  his  prisoner? 

Lew.  As  heartily  as  he  is  glad  he  hath  him. 

Pand.  Your  mind  is  all  as  youthful  as  your  blood. 
Now  hear  me  speak  with  a  prophetic  spirit ; 

73 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  LIFE  AND 

For  even  the  breath  of  what  I  mean  to  speak 

Shall  blow  each  dust,  each  straw,  each  little  rub, 

Out  of  the  path  which  shall  directly  lead 

Thy  foot  to  England's  throne ;  and  therefore  mark, 

John  hath  seized  Arthur ;  and  it  cannot  be  131 

That,  whiles  warm  life  plays  in  that  infant's  veins, 

The  misplaced  John  should  entertain  an  hour. 

One  minute,  nay,  one  quiet  breath  of  rest. 

A  sceptre  snatch'd  with  an  unruly  hand 

Must  be  as  boisterously  maintain'd  as  gain'd ; 

And  he  that  stands  upon  a  slippery  place 

Makes  nice  of  no  vile  hold  to  stay  him  up : 

That  John  may  stand,  then  Arthur  needs  must  fall ; 

So  be  it,  for  it  cannot  be  but  so.  140 

Lew.  But  what  shall  I  gain  by  young  Arthur's  fall  ? 

Pand.  You,  in  the  right  of  Lady  Blanch  your  wife, 
May  then  make  all  the  claim  that  Arthur  did. 

Lew.  And  lose  it,  life  and  all,  as  Arthur  did. 

Pand.  How  green  you  are  and  fresh  in  this  old  world ! 
John  lays  you  plots ;  the  times  conspire  with  you  ; 
For  he  that  steeps  his  safety  in  true  blood 
Shall  find  but  bloody  safety  and  untrue. 
This  act  so  evilly  born  shall  cool  the  hearts 
Of  all  his  people  and  freeze  up  their  zeal,  150 

That  none  so  small  advantage  shall  step  forth 
To  check  his  reign,  but  they  will  cherish  it ; 
No  natural  exhalation  in  the  sky. 
No  scope  of  nature,  no  distemper'd  day. 
No  common  wind,  no  customed  event. 
But  they  will  pluck  away  his  natural  cause 
And  call  them  meteors,  prodigies  and  signs. 
Abortives,  presages  and  tongues  of  heaven, 

74 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  HI.  Sc.  iv. 

Plainly  denouncing  vengeance  upon  John. 
Lew.  May  be  he  will  not  touch  young  Arthur's  life,      i6o 
But  hold  himself  safe  in  his  prisonment. 

Pand.  O,  sir,  when  he  shall  hear  of  your  approach, 
If  that  young  Arthur  be  not  gone  already. 
Even  at  that  news  he  dies  ;  and  then  the  hearts 
Of  all  his  people  shall  revolt  from  him. 
And  kiss  the  lips  of  unacquainted  change. 
And  pick  strong  matter  of  revolt  and  wrath 
Out  of  the  bloody  fingers'  ends  of  John. 
Methinks  I  see  this  hurly  all  on  foot : 
And,  O,  what  better  matter  breeds  for  you  170 

Than  I  have  named !     The  bastard  Faulconbridge 
Is  not  in  England,  ransacking  the  church. 
Offending  charity :  if  but  a  dozen  French 
Were  there  in  arms,  they  would  be  as  a  call 
To  train  ten  thousand  English  to  their  side. 
Or  as  a  little  snow,  tumbled  about, 
Anon  becomes  a  mountain.     O  noble  Dauphin, 
Go  with  me  to  the  king :   'tis  wonderful 
What  may  be  wrought  out  of  their  discontent. 
Now  that  their  souls  are  topful  of  offence,  180 

For  England  go :   I  will  whet  on  the  king. 

Lezi'.  Strong  reasons  make  strong  actions :  let  us  go : 
If  you  say  ay,  the  king  will  not  say  no.  [Exeunt 


7^ 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

ACT  FOURTH. 

Scene  I. 

A  room  in  a  castle. 
Enter  Hubert  and  Executioners. 

Huh.  Heat  me  these  irons  hot ;   and  look  thou  stand 
Within  the  arras :   when  I  strike  my  foot 
Upon  the  bosom  of  the  ground,  rush  forth, 
And  bind  the  boy  which  you  shall  find  with  me 
Fast  to  the  chair :   be  heedful :   hence,  and  watch. 

First  Exec.  I  hope  your  warrant  will  bear  out  the  deed. 

Huh,  Uncleanly  scruples  !   fear  not  you  :   look  to  't. 

[ Exeunt  Execii tio ners. 
Young  lad,  come  forth ;   1  have  to  say  with  you. 

Enter  Arthur. 

Arth.  Good  morrow,  Hubert. 

Huh.  Good  morrow,  little  prince. 

Arth.  As  little  prince,  having  so  great  a  title  lO 

To  be  more  prince,  as  may  be.     You  are  sad. 
Huh.  Indeed,  I  have  been  merrier. 

Arth.  Mercy  on  me ! 

Methinks  no  body  should  be  sad  but  I : 
Yet,  I  remember,  when  I  was  in  France, 
Young  gentlemen  would  be  as  sad  as  night, 
Only  for  wantonness.     By  my  Christendom, 
So  I  were  out  of  prison  and  kept  sheep, 
I  should  be  as  merry  as  the  day  is  long ; 
And  so  I  would  be  here,  but  that  I  doubt 
My  uncle  practises  more  harm  to  me :  20 

7^ 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

He  is  afraid  of  me  and  I  of  him : 

Is  it  my  fault  that  I  was  Geffrey's  son  ? 

No,  indeed,  is  't  not ;  and  I  would  to  heaven 

I  were  your  son,  so  you  would  love  me,  Hubert. 

Huh.   [Aside]   If  I  talk  to  him,  with  his  innocent  prate 
He  will  awake  my  mercy  which  lies  dead : 
Therefore  I  will  be  sudden  and  dispatch. 

Arth.  Are  you  sick,  Hubert  ?  you  look  pale  to-day : 
In  sooth,  I  would  you  were  a  little  sick. 
That  I  might  sit  all  night  and  watch  with  you :        30 
I  warrant  I  love  you  more  than  you  do  me. 

'Huh.    [Aside]  His  words  do  take  possession  of  my  bosom. 
Read  here,  young  Arthur.  [Sho'Vi'ing  a  paper. 

[Aside]   How  now,  foolish  rheum! 
Turning  dispiteous  torture  out  of  door ! 
I  must  be  brief,  lest  resolution  drop 
Out  at  mine  eyes  in  tender  womanish  tears. 
Can  you  not  read  it  ?   is  it  not  fair  writ  ? 

Arth.  Too  fairly,  Hubert,  for  so  foul  effect : 

Must  you  with  hot  irons  burn  out  both  mine  eyes  ? 

Hub'.  Young  boy,  I  must. 

Arth.  And  will  you  ? 

Huh.  And  I  will.       40 

Arth.  Have  you  the  heart  ?  When  your  head  did  but  ache 
I  knit  my  handkercher  about  your  brows. 
The  best  I  had,  a  princess  wrought  it  me. 
And  I  did  never  ask  it  you  again ; 
And  with  my  hand  at  midnight  held  your  head, 
And  Hke  the  watchful  minutes  to  the  hour, 
Still  and  anon  cheer'd  up  the  heavy  time. 
Saying, '  What  lack  you  ? '  and '  Where  lies  your  grief  V 
Or  '  What  good  love  may  I  perform  for  you  ? ' 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Many  a  poor  man's  son  would  have  lien  still  50 

And  ne'er  have  spoke  a  loving  word  to  you ; 

But  you  at  your  sick  service  had  a  prince. 

Nay,  you  may  think  my  love  was  crafty  love, 

And  call  it  cunning :  do,  an  if  you  will : 

If  heaven  be  pleased  that  you  must  use  me  ill, 

Why  then  you  must.    Will  you  put  out  mine  eyes  ? 

These  eyes  that  never  did  nor  never  shall 

So  much  as  frown  on  you. 

Hub.  I  have  sworn  to  do  it ; 

And  with  hot  irons  must  I  burn  them  out. 

Arth.  Ah,  none  but  in  this  iron  age  would  do  it !  60 

The  iron  of  itself,  though  heat  red-hot, 
Approaching  near  these  eyes,  would  drink  my  tears 
And  quench  his  fiery  indignation 
Even  in  the  matter  of  mine  innocence ; 
Nay,  after  that,  consume  away  in  rust. 
But  for  containing  fire  to  harm  mine  eye. 
Are  you  more  stubborn-hard  than  hammer'd  iron  ? 
An  if  an  angel  should  have  come  to  me 
And  told  me  Hubert  should  put  out  mine  eyes,     • 
I    would   not    have   believed   him, — no   tongue   but 
Hubert's.  70 

Hub.  Come  forth.  [Stamps. 

Re-enter  Executioners,  with  a  cord,  irons,  &c. 

Do  as  I  bid  you  do. 
Arth.  O,  save  me,  Hubert,  save  me !  my  eyes  are  out 

Even  with  the  fierce  looks  of  these  bloody  men. 
Hub.  Give  me  the  iron,  I  say,  and  bind  him  here. 
Arth.  Alas,  what  need  you  be  so  boisterous-rough  ? 

I  will  not  struggle,  I  will  stand  stone-still. 

78 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

For  heaven  sake,  Hubert,  let  me  not  be  bound ! 

Nay,  hear  me,  Hubert,  drive  these  men  away, 

And  I  will  sit  as  quiet  as  a  lamb ;  80 

I  will  not  stir,  nor  wince,  nor  speak  a  word. 

Nor  look  upon  the  iron  angerly : 

Thrust  but  these  men  away,  and  I  '11  forgive  you, 

Whatever  torment  you  do  put  me  to. 

Huh.  Go,  stand  within  ;  let  me  alone  with  him. 

First  Exec.  I  am  best  pleased  to  be  from  such  a  deed. 

[Exeunt  Executioners. 

Arth.  Alas,  I  then  have  chid  away  my  friend ! 
He  hath  a  stem  look,  but  a  gentle  heart : 
Let  him  come  back,  that  his  compassion  may 
Give  life  to  yours. 

Huh.  Come,  boy,  prepare  yourself.       90 

Arth.  Is  there  no  remedy  ? 

Huh.  None,  but  to  lose  your  eyes. 

Arth.  O  heaven,  that  there  were  but  a  mote  in  yours, 
A  grain,  a  dust,  a  gnat,  a  wandering  hair, 
Any  annoyance  in  that  precious  sense  ! 
Then,  feeling  what  small  things  are  boisterous  there, 
Your  vile  intent  must  needs  seem  horrible. 

Huh.  Is  this  your  promise  ?  go  to,  hold  your  tongue. 

Arth.  Hubert,  the  utterance  of  a  brace  of  tongues 
Must  needs  want  pleading  for  a  pair  of  eyes  : 
Let  me  not  hold  my  tongue,  let  me  not,  Hubert ; 
Or,  Hubert,  if  you  will,  cut  out  my  tongue,  loi 

So  I  may  keep  mine  eyes  :  O,  spare  mine  eyes, 
Though  to  no  use  but  still  to  look  on  you ! 
Lo,  by  my  troth,  the  instrument  is  cold 
And  would  not  harm  me. 

Huh.  I  can  heat  it,  boy. 

79 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Arth.  No,  in  good  sooth ;  the  fire  is  dead  with  grief, 
Being  create  for  comfort,  to  be  used 
In  undeserved  extremes  :  see  else  yourself ; 
There  is  no  malice  in  this  burning  coal ; 
The  breath  of  heaven  hath  blown  his  spirit  out       no 
And  strew'd  repentant  ashes  on  his  head. 

Hub.  But  with  my  breath  I  can  revive  it,  boy. 

Arth.  An  if  you  do,  you  will  but  make  it  blush 

And  glow  with  shame  of  your  proceedings,  Hubert: 

Nay,  it  perchance  will  sparkle  in  your  eyes  ; 

And  like  a  dog  that  is  compell'd  to  fight. 

Snatch  at  his  master  that  doth  tarre  him  on. 

All  things  that  you  should  use  to  do  me  wrong 

Deny  their  office :   only  you  do  lack 

That  mercy  which  fierce  fire  and  iron  extends,        120 

Creatures  of  note  for  mercy-lacking  uses. 

Hub.  Well,  see  to  live ;  I  will  not  touch  thine  eye 
For  all  the  treasure  that  thine  uncle  owes : 
Yet  am  I  sworn  and  I  did  purpose,  boy. 
With  this  same  very  iron  to  burn  them  out. 

Arth.  O,  now  you  look  like  Hubert !  all  this  while 
You  were  disguised. 

Hub.  Peace ;  no  more.    Adieu. 

Your  uncle  must  not  know  but  you  are  dead  ; 
I  '11  fill  these  dogged  spies  with  false  reports : 
And,  pretty  child,  sleep  doubtless  and  secure,  130 

That  Hubert,  for  the  wealth  of  all  the  world, 
Will  not  offend  thee. 

Arth.  O  heaven  !    I  thank  you,  Hubert. 

Hub.  Silence ;  no  more :  go  closely  in  with  me : 

Much  danger  do  I  undergo  for  thee.  [Exeunt. 


80 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

Scene  IL 

King  John's  palace. 
Enter  King  John,  Pembroke,  Salisbury,  and  other  Lords. 

K,  John.  Here  once  again  we  sit,  once  again  crown'd, 
And  look'd  upon,  I  hope,  with  cheerful  eyes. 

Pern.  This  '  once  again,'  but  that  your  highness  pleased, 
Was  once  superfluous  :  you  were  crown'd  before, 
And  that  high  royalty  was  ne'er  pluck'd  off. 
The  faiths  of  men  ne'er  stained  with  revolt ; 
Fresh  expectation  troubled  not  the  land 
With  any  long'd-for  change  or  better  state. 

Sal.  Therefore,  to  be  possess'd  with  double  pomp, 

To  guard  a  title  that  was  rich  before,  lo 

To  gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the  lily, 

To  throw  a  perfume  on  the  violet. 

To  smooth  the  ice,  or  add  another  hue 

Unto  the  rainbow,  or  with  taper-light 

To  seek  the  beautous  eye  of  heaven  to  garnish. 

Is  wasteful,  and  ridiculous  excess. 

Pern*  But  that  your  royal  pleasure  must  be  done, 
This  act  is  as  an  ancient  tale  new  told. 
And  in  the  last  repeating  troublesome. 
Being  urged  at  a  time  unseasonable.  20 

Sal,  In  this  the  antique  and  well-noted  face 
Of  plain  old  form  is  much  disfigured ; 
And,  like  a  shifted  wind  unto  a  sail. 
It  makes  the  course  of  thoughts  to  fetch  about, 
Startles  and  frights  consideration. 
Makes  sound  opinion  sick  and  truth  suspected. 
For  putting  on  so  new  a  fashion'd  robe. 

81 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Pern.  When  workmen  strive  to  do  better  than  well, 
They  do  confound  their  skill  in  covetousness ; 
And  oftentimes  excusing  of  a  fault  30 

Doth  make  the  fault  the  worse  by  the  excuse, 
As  patches  set  upon  a  little  breach 
Discredit  more  in  hiding  of  the  fault 
Than  did  the  fault  before  it  was  so  patch'd. 

Sal.  To  this  effect,  before  you  were  new  crown'd, 

We  breathed  our  counsel :  but  it  pleased  your  highness 
To  overbear  it,  and  we  are  all  well  pleased 
Since  all  and  every  part  of  what  we  would 
Doth  make  a  stand  at  what  your  highness  will. 

K.  John.  Some  reasons  of  this  double  coronation  40 

I  have  possess'd  you  with  and  think  them  strong ; 
And  more,  more  strong,  then  lesser  is  my  fear, 
I  shall  indue  you  with  :  meantime  but  ask 
What  you  would  have  reform'd  that  is  not  well, 
And  well  shall  you  perceive  how  willingly 
I  will  both  hear  and  grant  you  your  requests. 

Pcjii.  Then  I,  as  one  that  am  the  tongue  of  these, 
To  sound  the  purposes  of  all  their  hearts, 
Both  for  myself  and  them,  but,  chief  of  all. 
Your  safety,  for  the  which  myself  and  them  50 

Bend  their  best  studies,  heartily  request 
The  enfranchisement  of  Arthur ;  whose  restraint 
Doth  move  the  murmuring  lips  of  discontent 
To  break  into  this  dangerous  argument, — 
If  what  in  rest  you  have  in  right  you  hold, 
Why  then  your  fears,  which  as  they  say,  attend 
The  steps  of  wrong,  should  move  you  to  mew  up 
Your  tender  kinsman,  and  to  choke  his  days 
With  barbarous  ignorance,  and  deny  his  youth 
82 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

The  rich  advantage  of  good  exercise.  60 

That  the  time's  enemies  may  not  have  this 

To  grace  occasions,  let  it  be  our  suit 

That  you  have  bid  us  ask  his  hberty ; 

Which  for  our  goods  we  do  no  further  ask 

Than  whereupon  our  weal,  on  you  depending, 

Counts  it  your  weal  he  have  his  liberty. 

Enter  Hubert. 

K.  John.  Let  it  be  so :  I  do  commit  his  youth 

To  your  direction.    Hubert,  what  news  with  you? 

[  Taking  him  apart. 

Pern.  This  is  the  man  should  do  the  bloody  deed ; 

He  show'd  his  warrant  to  a  friend  of  mine :  70 

The  image  of  a  wicked  heinous  fault 
Lives  in  his  eye ;  that  close  aspect  of  his 
Does  show  the  mood  of  a  much  troubled  breast ; 
And  I  do  fearfully  believe  'tis  done, 
What  we  so  fear'd  he  had  a  charge  to  do. 

Sal.  The  colour  of  the  king  doth  come  and  go 
Between  his  purpose  and  his  conscience, 
Like  heralds  'twixt  two  dreadful  battles  set : 
His  passion  is  so  ripe,  it  needs  must  break. 

Pent.  And  when  it  breaks,  I  fear  will  issue  thence  80 

The  foul  corruption  of  a  sweet  child's  death. 

K.  John.  We  cannot  hold  mortality's  strong  hand : 
Good  lords,  although  my  will  to  give  is  living. 
The  suit  which  you  demand  is  gone  and  dead : 
He  tells  us  Arthur  is  deceased  to-night. 

Sal.  Indeed  we  fear'd  his  sickness  was  past  cure. 

Pern.  Indeed  we  heard  how  near  his  death  he  was, 
Before  the  child  himself  felt  he  was  sick : 

83 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

This  must  be  answer'd  either  here  or  hence. 

K.  John.  Why  do  you  bend  such  solemn  brows  on  me  ? 
Think  you  I  bear  the  shears  of  destiny?  91 

Have  I  commandment  on  the  pulse  of  life  ? 

Sal.  It  is  apparent  foul-play ;   and  'tis  shame 
That  greatness  should  so  grossly  offer  it : 
So  thrive  it  in  your  game !  and  so,  farewell. 

Pent.  Stay  yet,  Lord  Salisbury ;  I  '11  go  with  thee, 
And  find  the  inheritance  of  this  poor  child. 
His  little  kingdom  of  a  forced  grave. 
That  blood  which  owed  the  breadth  of  all  this  isle. 
Three  foot  of  it  doth  hold :  bad  world  the  while ! 
This  must  not  be  thus  borne :  this  will  break  out 
To  all  our  sorrows,  and  ere  long  I  doubt.  102 

[Exeunt  Lords. 

K.  John.  They  burn  in  indignation.  I  repent: 
There  is  no  sure  foundation  set  on  blood. 
No  certain  life  achieved  by  others'  death. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

A  fearful  eye  thou  hast :  w^here  is  that  blood 

That  I  have  seen  inhabit  in  those  cheeks  ? 

So  foul  a  sky  clears  not  without  a  storm : 

Pour  down  thy  weather :  how  goes  all  in  France  ? 
Mess.  From  France  to  England.    Never  such  a  power 

For  any  foreign  preparation  ill 

Was  levied  in  the  body  of  a  land. 

The  copy  of  your  speed  is  learn 'd  by  them ; 

For  when  you  should  be  told  they  do  prepare. 

The  tidings  comes  that  they  are  all  arrived. 
K.  John.  O,  where  hath  our  intelligence  been  drunk  ? 

Where  hath  it  slept  ?    Where  is  my  mother's  care, 

84 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

That  such  an  army  could  be  drawn  in  France, 
And  she  not  hear  of  it? 

Mess.  My  liege,  her  ear 

Is  stopp'd  with  dust ;  the  first  of  April  died  120 

Your  noble  mother :  and,  as  I  hear,  my  lord, 

The  Lady  Constance  in  a  frenzy  died 

Three  days  before :  but  this  from  rumour's  tongue 

I  idly  heard ;  if  true  or  false  I  know  not. 

K.  John.  Withhold  thy  speed,  dreadful  occasion ! 
O,  make  a  league  with  me,  till  I  have  pleased 
My  discontented  peers !    What !  mother  dead ! 
How  wildly  then  walks  my  estate  in  France ! 
Under  whose  conduct  came  those  powers  of  France 
That  thou  for  truth  givest  out  are  landed  here  ?      130 

Mess.  Under  the  Dauphin. 

K.  John.  Thou  hast  made  me  giddy 

With  these  ill  tidings. 

Enter  the  Bastard  and  Peter  of  Pomfret. 

Now,  what  says  the  world 

To  your  proceedings  ?  do  not  seek  to  stuff 

My  head  with  more  ill  news,  for  it  is  full. 
Bast,  But  if  ycfu  be  afeard  to  hear  the  worst, 

Then  let  the  worst  unheard  fall  on  your  head. 
K.  John.  Bear  with  me,  cousin ;  for  I  was  amazed 

Under  the  tide :  but  now  I  breathe  again 

Aloft  the  flood,  and  can  give  audience 

To  any  tongue,  speak  it  of  what  it  will.  140 

Bast.  How  I  have  sped  among  the  clergy-men. 

The  sums  I  have  collected  shall  express. 

But  as  I  travell'd  hither  through  the  land, 

I  find  the  people  strangely  fantasied ; 

85 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Possess'd  with  rumours,  full  of  idle  dreams, 
Not  knowing  what  they  fear,  but  full  of  fear : 
And  here  's  a  prophet,  that  I  brought  with  me 
From  forth  the  streets  of  Pomfret,  whom  I  found 
With  many  hundreds  treading  on  his  heels ; 
To  whom  he  sung,  in  rude  harsh-sounding  rhymes. 
That,  ere  the  next  i\scension-day  at  noon,  151 

Your  highness  should  deliver  up  your  crown. 

K.  John.  Thou  idle  dreamer,  wherefore  didst  thou  so? 

Peter.  Foreknowing  that  the  truth  will  fall  out  so. 

K.John.  Hubert,  away  with  him;   imprison  him; 
And  on  that  day  at  noon,  whereon  he  says 
I  shall  yield  up  my  crown,  let  him  be  hang'd. 
Deliver  him  to  safety ;  and  return. 
For  I  must  use  thee.  [Exit  Hubert  with  Peter. 

O  my  gentle  cousin, 
Hear'st  thou  the  news  abroad,  who  are  arrived  ?     160 

Bast.  The  French,  my  lord ;  men's  mouths  are  full  of  it : 
Besides,  I  met  Lord  Bigot  and  Lord  Salisbury, 
With  eyes  as  red  as  new-enkindled  fire. 
And  others  more,  going  to  seek  the  grave 
Of  Arthur,  whom  they  say  is  kill'd  to-night 
On  your  suggestion. 

K.  John.  Gentle  kinsman,.go. 

And  thrust  thyself  into  their  companies : 
I  have  a  way  to  win  their  loves  again ; 
Bring  them  before  me. 

Bast.  I  will  seek  them  out. 

K.  John.  Nay,  but  make  haste ;   the  better  foot  before. 
O,  let  me  have  no  subject  enemies,  170 

Wlien  adverse  foreigners  affright  my  towns 
With  dreadful  pomp  of  stout  invasion ! 
86 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

Be  Mercury,  set  feathers  to  thy  heels, 

And  fly  Hke  thought  from  them  to  me  again. 

Bast  The  spirit  of  the  time  shall  teach  me  speed.       [Exit. 

K,  John.  Spoke  like  a  sprightful  gentleman. 
Go  after  him  ;  for  he  perhaps  shall  need 
Some  messenger  betwixt  me  and  the  peers ; 
And  be  thou  he. 

Ad  ess.  With  all  my  heart,  my  liege.   [Exit  1 80 

K.  John.  My  mother  dead ! 

Re-enter  Hubert. 

JJuh.  My  lord,  they  say  five  moons  were  seen  to-night; 
Four  fixed,  and  the  fifth  did  whirl  about 
The  other  four  in  wondrous  motion. 

K.  John.  Five  moons  ! 

Huh.  Old  men  and  beldams  in  the  streets 

Do  prophesy  upon  it  dangerously  : 
Young  Arthur's  death  is  common  in  their  mouths : 
And  when  they  talk  of  him,  they  shake  their  heads 
And  whisper  one  another  in  the  ear ; 
And  he  that  speaks  doth  gripe  the  hearer's  wrist, 
Whilst  he  that  hears  makes  fearful  action,  191 

With  wrinkled  brows,  with  nods,  with  rolling  eyes. 
I  saw  a  smith  stand  with  his  hammer,  thus. 
The  whilst  his  iron  did  on  the  anvil  cool. 
With  open  mouth  swallowing  a  tailor's  news ; 
Who,  with  his  shears  and  measure  in  his  hand, 
Standing  on  slippers,  which  his  nimble  haste 
Had  falsely  thrust  upon  contrary  feet, 
Told  of  a  many  thousand  warlike  French 
That  were  embattailed  and  rank'd  in  Kent :  200 

Another  lean  unwash'd  artificer 

87 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Cuts  off  his  tale  and  talks  of  Arthur's  death. 

K,  John.  Why  seek'st  thou  to  possess  me  with  these  fears  ? 
Why  urgest  thou  so  oft  young  Arthur's  death  ? 
Thy  hand  hath  murder'd  him  :  I  had  a  mighty  cause 
To  wish  him  dead,  but  thou  hadst  none  to  kill  him. 

Huh.  Xo  had,  my  lord!   why,  did  you  not  provoke  me? 

K.  John.  It  is  the  curse  of  kings  to  be  attended 

By  slaves  that  take  their  humours  for  a  warrant 

To  break  within  the  bloody  house  of  life,  210 

And  on  the  wanking  of  authority 

To  understand  a  law,  to  know  the  meaning 

Of  dangerous  majesty,  when  perchance  it  frowns 

More  upon  humour  than  advised  respect. 

Huh.  Here  is  your  hand  and  seal  for  what  I  did. 

K.  John.  O,  when  the  last  account  'twixt  heaven  and  earth 
Is  to  be  made,  then  shall  this  hand  and  seal 
Witness  against  us  to  damnation  ! 
How  oft  the  sight  of  means  to  do  ill  deeds 
Make  ill  deeds  done !    Hadst  not  thou  been  by, 
A  fellow  by  the  hand  of  nature  mark'd,  221 

Quoted  and  sign'd  to  do  a  deed  of  shame, 
This  murder  had  not  come  into  my  mind : 
But  taking  note  of  thy  abhorr'd  aspect, 
Finding  thee  fit  for  bloody  villany, 
Apt,  liable  to  be  employ'd  in  danger, 
I  faintly  broke  with  thee  of  Arthur's  death ; 
And  thou,  to  be  endeared  to  a  king, 
Made  it  no  conscience  to  destroy  a  prince. 

Huh.  My  lord, —  230 

K,  John.  Hadst  thou  but  shook  thy  head  or  made  a  pause 
When  I  spake  darkly  what  I  purposed, 
Or  tum'd  an  eye  of  doubt  upon  my  face, 
88 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

As  bid  me  tell  my  tale  in  express  words, 

Deep  shame  had  struck  me  dumb,  made  me  break  off, 

And  those  thy  fears  might  have  wrought  fears  in  me : 

But  thou  didst  understand  me  by  my  signs 

And  didst  in  signs  again  parley  with  sin ; 

Yea,  without  stop,  didst  let  thy  heart  consent, 

And  consequently  thy  rude  hand  to  act  240 

The  deed,  which  both  our  tongues  held  vile  to  name. 

Out  of  my  sight,  and  never  see  me  more ! 

My  nobles  leave  me ;  and  my  state  is  braved. 

Even  at  my  gates,  with  ranks  of  foreign  powers : 

Nay,  in  the  body  of  this  fleshly  land. 

This  kingdom,  this  confine  of  blood  and  breath, 

Hostility  and  civil  tumult  reigns 

Between  my  conscience  and  my  cousin's  death. 

Huh.  Arm  you  against  your  other  enemies, 

I  '11  m.ake  a  peace  between  your  soul  and  you.        250 
Young  Arthur  is  alive :  this  hand  of  mine 
Is  yet  a  maiden  and  an  innocent  hand, 
Not  painted  with  the  crimson  spots  of  blood. 
Within  this  bosom  never  enter'd  yet 
The  dreadful  motion  of  a  murderous  thought ; 
And  you  have  slander'd  nature  in  my  form, 
Which,  howsoever  rude  exteriorly. 
Is  yet  the  cover  of  a  fairer  mind 
'    Than  to  be  butcher  of  an  innocent  child. 

K.  John.  Doth  Arthur  live  ?    O,  haste  thee  to  the  peers. 
Throw  this  report  on  their  incensed  rage,  261 

And  make  them  tame  to  their  obedience ! 
Forgive  the  comment  that  my  passion  made 
Upon  thy  feature ;  for  my  rage  was  blind, 
And  foul  imaginary  eyes  of  blood 

89 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Presented  thee  more  hideous  than  thou  art. 

O,  answer  not,  but  to  my  closet  bring 

The  angry  lords  with  all  expedient  haste. 

I  conjure  thee  but  slowly ;  run  more  fast.      [Exeunt. 

Scene  III. 

Before  the  castle. 

Enter  Arthur,  on  the  walls. 

Arth.  The  wall  is  high,  and  yet  will  I  leap  down: 
Good  ground,  be  pitiful  and  hurt  me  not ! 
There  's  few  or  none  do  know  me  :  if  they  did, 
This  ship-boy's  semblance  hath  disguised  me  quite. 
I  am  afraid ;  and  yet  I  '11  venture  it. 
If  I  get  down,  and  do  not  break  my  limbs, 
I  '11  find  a  thousand  shifts  to  get  away : 
As  good  to  die  and  go,  as  die  and  stay.    {Leaps  dozon. 
O  me !   my  uncle's  spirit  is  in  these  stones  : 
Heaven  take  my  soul,  and  England  keep  my  bones  !  lo 

[Dies. 

Enter  Pembroke,  Salisbury,  and  Bigot. 

Sal.  Lords,  I  will  meet  him  at  Saint  Edmundsbury : 

It  is  our  safety,  and  we  must  embrace 

This  gentle  offer  of  the  perilous  time. 
Pent.  Who  brought  that  letter  from  the  cardinal  ? 
Sal.  The  Count  Melun,  a  noble  lord  of  France ; 

Whose  private  with  me  of  the  Dauphin's  love 

Is  much  more  general  than  these  lines  import. 
Big.  To-morrow  morning  let  us  meet  him  then. 
Sal.  Or  rather  then  set  forward ;   for  'twill  be 

Two  long  days'  journey,  lords,  or  ere  we  meet.  20 

90 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Enter  the  Bastard. 

Bast.  Once  more  to-day  well  met,  clistemper'd  lords ! 
The  king  by  me  requests  your  presence  straight. 

Sal.  The  king  hath  dispossess'd  himself  of  us  : 
We  will  not  line  his  thin  bestained  cloak 
With  our  pure  honours,  nor  attend  the  foot 
That  leaves  the  print  of  blood  where'er  it  walks. 
Return  and  tell  him  so :   we  know  the  worst. 

Bast.  Whate'er  you  think,  good  words,  I  think,  were  best. 

Sal.  Our  griefs,  and  not  our  manners,  reason  now. 

Bast.  But  there  is  little  reason  in  your  grief ;  30 

Therefore  'twere  reason  you  had  manners  now. 

Pern.  Sir,  sir,  impatience  hath  his  privilege. 

Bast.  'Tis  true,  to  hurt  his  master,  no  man  else. 

SaL  This  is  the  prison.    What  is  he  lies  here  ? 

[Seeing  Arthur. 

Pern.  O  death,  made  proud  with  pure  and  princely  beauty ! 
The  earth  had  not  a  hole  to  hide  this  deed. 

Sal.  Murder,  as  hating  what  himself  hath  done, 
Doth  lay  it  open  to  urge  on  revenge. 

Big.  Or,  when  he  doom'd  this  beauty  to  a  grave, 

Found  it  too  precious-princely  for  a  grave.  40 

Sal.  Sir  Richard,  what  think  you  ?  have  you  beheld. 
Or  have  you  read  or  heard  ?  or  could  you  think  ? 
Or  do  you  almost  think,  although  you  see. 
That  you  do  see?  could  thought,  without  this  object 
Form  such  another  ?    This  is  the  very  top. 
The  height,  the  crest,  or  crest  unto  the  crest, 
Of  murder's  arms  :  this  Is  the  bloodiest  shame. 
The  wildest  savagery,  the  vilest  stroke. 
That  ever  wall-eyed  wrath  or  staring  rage 

91 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Presented  to  the  tears  of  soft  remorse.  50 

Peni.  All  murders  past  do  stand  excused  in  this: 

And  this,  so  sole  and  so  unmatchable, 

Shall  give  a  holiness,  a  purity. 

To  the  yet  unbegotten  sin  of  times ; 

And  prove  a  deadly  bloodshed  but  a  jest, 

Exampled  by  this  heinous  spectacle. 
Bast.  It  is  a  damned  and  a  bloody  work ; 

The  graceless  action  of  a  heavy  hand, 

If  that  it  be  the  work  of  any  hand. 
Sal.  If  that  it  be  the  work  of  any  hand !  60 

We  had  a  kind  of  light  what  would  ensue : 

It  is  the  shameful  work  of  Hubert's  hand ; 

The  practice  and  the  purpose  of  the  king : 

From  whose  obedience  I  forbid  my  soul, 

Kneeling  before  this  ruin  of  sweet  life, 

And  breathing  to  his  breathless  excellence 

The  incense  of  a  vow,  a  holy  vow, 

Never  to  taste  the  pleasures  of  the  world, 

Never  to  be  infected  with  delight. 

Nor  conversant  with  ease  and  idleness,  70 

Till  I  have  set  a  glory  to  this  hand. 

By  giving  it  the  worship  of  revenge. 

T>'    '    \  Our  souls  religiously  confirm  thy  words. 

Enter  Hubert. 

Huh.  Lords,  I  am  hot  with  haste  in  seeking  you : 
Arthur  doth  Hve ;  the  king  hath  sent  for  you. 

Sal.  O,  he  is  bold  and  blushes  not  at  death. 

Avaunt,  thou  hateful  villain,  get  thee  gone ! 

Huh.  I  am  no  villain. 

92 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Sal.  Must  I  rob  the  law  ? 

[Draiving  his  sword. 

Bast.  Your  sword  is  bright,  sir ;   put  it  up  again. 

Sal.  Not  till  I  sheathe  it  in  a  murderer's  skin.  80 

Huh.  Stand  back,  Lord  Salisbury,  stand  back,  I  say ; 
By  heaven,  I  think  my  sword  's  as  sharp  as  yours : 
I  would  not  have  you,  lord,  forget  yourself, 
Nor  tempt  the  danger  of  my  true  defence ; 
Lest  I,  by  marking  of  your  rage,  forget 
Your  worth,  your  greatness  and  nobility. 

Big.  Out,  dunghill !   darest  thou  brave  a  nobleman  ? 

Huh.  Not  for  my  life :  but  yet  I  dare  defend 
My  innocent  life  against  an  emperor. 

Sal.  Thou  art  a  murderer. 

Huh.  Do  not  prove  me  so ;  90 

Yet  I  am  none :   whose  tongue  soe'er  speaks  false. 
Not  truly  speaks  ;  who  speaks  not  truly,  lies. 

Pern.  Cut  him  to  pieces. 

Bast.  Keep  the  peace,  I  say. 

Sal.  Stand  by,  or  I  shall  gall  you,  Faulconbridge. 

Bast.  Thou  wert  better  gall  the  devil,  Salisbury: 
If  thou  but  frown  on  me,  or  stir  thy  foot. 
Or  teach  thy  hasty  spleen  to  do  me  shame, 
I  '11  strike  thee  dead.    Put  up  thy  sword  betime ; 
Or  I  '11  so  maul  you  and  your  toasting-iron. 
That  you  shall  think  the  devil  is  come  from  hell. 

Big.  What  wilt  thou  do,  renowned  Faulconbridge?       loi 
Second  a  villain  and  a  murderer  ? 

Huh.  Lord  Bigot,  I  am  none. 

Big.  Who  kiird  this  prince? 

Huh.  'Tis  not  an  hour  since  I  left  him  well : 
I  honour'd  him,  I  loved  him,  and  will  weep 

93 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

My  date  of  life  out  for  his  sweet  life's  loss. 

Sal.  Trust  not  those  cunning  waters  of  his  eyes, 
For  villany  is  not  without  such  rheum ; 
And  he,  long  traded  in  it,  makes  it  seem 
Like  rivers  of  remorse  and  innocency.  no 

Away  with  me,  all  you  whose  souls  abhor 
The  uncleanly  savours  of  a  slaughter-house ; 
For  I  am  stifled  with  this  smell  of  sin. 

Big.  Away  toward  Bury,  to  the  Dauphin  there ! 

Pern.  There  tell  the  king  he  may  inquire  us  out. 

[Exeunt  Lords, 

Bast.  Here  's  a  good  world  !  Knew  you  of  this  fair  work  ? 
Beyond  the  infinite  and  boundless  reach 
Of  mercy,  if  thou  didst  this  deed  of  death, 
Art  thou  damn'd,  Hubert. 

Hub.  Do  but  hear  me,  sir. 

Bast.  Ha !  I  '11  tell  thee  what ;  120 

Thou  'rt  damn'd  as  black — nay,  nothing  is  so  black ; 
Thou  art  more  deep  damn'd  than  Prince  Lucifer: 
There  is  not  yet  so  ugly  a  fiend  of  hell 
As  thou  shalt  be,  if  thou  didst  kill  this  child. 

Hub.  Upon  my  soul — 

Bast.  If  thou  didst  but  consent 

To  this  most  cruel  act,  do  but  despair ; 
And  if  thou  want'st  a  cord,  the  smallest  thread 
That  ever  spider  twisted  from  her  womb 
Will  serve  to  strangle  thee ;  a  rush  will  be  a  beam 
To  hang  thee  on ;  or  wouldst  thou  drown  thyself, 
Put  but  a  little  water  in  a  spoon. 
And  it  shall  be  as  all  the  ocean. 
Enough  to  stifle  such  a  villain  up. 
I  do  suspect  thee  very  grievously. 
94 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Huh,  If  I  in  act,  consent,  or  sin  of  thought, 
Be  guilty  of  the  steaHng  that  sweet  breath 
Which  was  embounded  in  this  beauteous  clay, 
Let  hell  want  pains  enough  to  torture  me. 
I  left  him  well. 

Ba^t.  Go,  bear  him  in  thine  arms. 

I  am  amazed,  methinks,  and  lose  my  way  140 

Among  the  thorns  and  dangers  of  this  world. 

How  easy  dost  thou  take  all  England  up ! 

From  forth  this  morsel  of  dead  royalty, 

The  life,  the  right  and  truth  of  all  this  realm 

Is  fled  to  heaven ;  and  England  now  is  left 

To  tug  and  scamble  and  to  part  by  the  teeth 

The  unowed  interest  of  proud-swelling  state. 

Now  for  the  bare-pick'd  bone  of  majesty 

Doth  dogged  war  bristle  his  angry  crest 

And  snarleth  in  the  gentle  eyes  of  peace  :  150 

Now  powers  from  home  and  discontents  at  home 

Meet  in  one  line ;  and  vast  confusion  waits, 

As  doth  a  raven  on  a  sick-fallen  beast, 

The  imminent  decay  of  wrested  pomp. 

Now  happy  he  whose  cloak  and  cincture  can 

Hold  out  this  tempest.     Bear  away  that  chile 

And  follow  me  with  speed :   I  '11  to  the  king : 

A  thousand  businesses  are  brief  in  hand, 

And  heaven  itself  doth  frown  upon  the  land. 

[Exeunt. 


Q5 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

ACT   FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

King  John's  palace. 
Enter  King  John,  Pandulph,  and  Attendants. 

K.  John.  Thus  have  I  yielded  up  into  your  hand 

The  circle  of  my  glory.  {Giving  the  crown. 

Pand.  Take  again 

From  this  my  hand,  as  holding  of  the  pope 
Your  sovereign  greatness  and  authority. 

K.  John.  Now  keep  your  holy  word :  go  meet  the  French, 
And  from  his  holiness  use  all  your  power 
To  stop  their  marches  'fore  we  are  inflamed. 
Our  discontented  counties  do  revolt ; 
Our  people  quarrel  with  obedience. 
Swearing  allegiance  and  the  love  of  soul  lo 

To  stranger  blood,  to  foreign  royalty. 
This  inundation  of  mistempered  humour 
Rests  by  you  only  to  be  qualified : 
Then  pause  not ;  for  the  present  time  's  so  sick, 
That  present  medicine  must  be  minister'd, 
Or  overthrow  incurable  ensues. 

Pand.  It  was  my  breath  that  blew  this  tempest  up, 
Upon  your  stubborn  usage  of  the  pope ; 
But  since  you  are  a  gentle  convertite. 
My  tongue  shall  hush  again  this  storm  of  war,  20 

And  make  fair  weather  in  your  blustering  land.    • 
On  this  Ascension-day,  remember  well. 
Upon  your  oath  of  service  to  the  pope. 
Go  I  to  make  the  French  lay  down  their  arms. 

[Exit. 

96 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

K.  John.  Is  this  Ascension-day  ?     Did  not  the  prophet 
Say  that  before  Ascension-day  at  noon 
My  crown  I  should  give  off  ?     Even  so  I  have  : 
I  did  suppose  it  should  be  on  constraint ; 
But,  heaven  be  thank'd,  it  is  but  voluntary. 

Enter  the  Bastard. 

Bast.  All  Kent  hath  yielded  ;  nothing  there  holds  out 

But  Dover  Castle :   London  hath  received,  31 

Like  a  kind  host,  the  Dauphin  and  his  powers : 

Your  nobles  wilj  not  hear  you,  but  are  gone 

To  offer  service  to  your  enemy, 

And  wild  amazement  hurries  up  and  down 

The  little  number  of  your  doubtful  friends. 

K.  John.  Would  not  my  lords  return  to  me  again, 
After  they  heard  young  Arthur  was  alive? 

Bast.  They  found  him  dead  and  cast  into  the  streets. 

An  empty  casket,  where  the  jewel  of  life  40 

By  some  damn'd  hand  was  robbed  and  ta'en  away. 

K.  John.  That  villain  Hubert  told  me  he  did  live. 

Bast.  So,  on  my  soul,  he  did,  for  aught  he  knew. 

But  wherefore  do  you  droop  ?  why  look  you  sad  ? 

Be  great  in  act,  as  you  have  been  in  thought ; 

Let  not  the  world  see  fear  and  sad  distrust 

Govern  the  motion  of  a  kingly  eye : 

Be  stirring  as  the  time ;  be  fire  with  fire ; 

Threaten  the  threatener,  and  outface  the  brow 

Of  bragging  horror  :   so  shall  inferior  eyes,  50 

That  borrow  their  behaviours  from  the  great, 

Grow  great  by  your  example  and  put  on 

The  dauntless  spirit  of  resolution. 

Away,  and  glister  like  the  god  of  war, 

97 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  LIFE  AND 

When  he  intendeth  to  become  the  field  : 

Show  boldness  and  aspiring  confidence. 

What,  shall  they  seek  the  lion  in  his  den, 

And  fright  him  there  ?  and  make  him  tremble  there  ? 

O,  let  it  not  be  said :  forage,  and  run 

To  meet  displeasure  farther  from  the  doors,  60 

And  grapple  with  him  ere  he  come  so  nigh. 

K.  John.  The  legate  of  the  pope  hath  been  with  me, 
And  I  have  made  a  happy  peace  with  him ; 
And  he  hath  promised  to  dismiss  the  powers 
Led  by  the  Dauphin. 

Bast.  O  inglorious  league ! 

Shall  we,  upon  the  footing  of  our  land, 
Send  fair-play  orders  and  make  compromise, 
Insinuation,  parley  and  base  truce 
To  arms  invasive?   shall  a  beardless  boy, 
A  cocker  d  silken  wanton,  brave  our  fields,  70 

And  flesh  his  spirit  in  a  warlike  soil, 
Mocking  the  air  with  colours  idly  spread. 
And  find  no  check  ?     Let  us,  my  liege,  to  arms : 
Perchance  the  cardinal  cannot  make  your  peace ; 
Or  if  he  do,  let  it  at  least  be  said 
They  saw  we  had  a  purpose  of  defence. 

K.  John.  Have  thou  the  ordering  of  this  present  time. 

Bast.  Away,  then,  with  good  courage !   yet,  I  know. 

Our  party  may  well  meet  a  prouder  foe.       [Exeunt. 


98 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

Scene  II. 

The  Dauphin's  camp  at  St.  Edmtindsbury. 

Enter,    in   arms,    Lewis,    Salisbury,    Melun,    Pembroke, 
Bigot,  and  Soldiers. 

Lew.  My  Lord  Melun,  let  this  be  copied  out, 
And  keep  it  safe  for  our  remembrance : 
Return  the  precedent  to  these  lords  again ; 
That,  having  our  fair  order  written  down, 
Both  they  and  we,  perusing  o'er  these  notes, 
May  know  wherefore  we  took  the  sacrament 
And  keep  our  faiths  firm  and  inviolable. 

Sal.  Upon  our  sides  it  never  shall  be  broken. 
And,  noble  Dauphin,  albeit  we  swear 
A  voluntary  zeal  and  an  unurged  faith  lo 

To  your  proceedings ;   yet  believe  me,  prince, 
I  am  not  glad  that  such  a  sore  of  time 
Should  seek  a  plaster  by  contemn'd  revolt, 
And  heal  the  inveterate  canker  of  one  wound 
By  making  many.     O,  it  grieves  my  soul. 
That  I  must  draw  this  metal  from  my  side 
To  be  a  widow-maker !     O,  and  there 
Where  honourable  rescue  and  defence 
Cries  out  upon  the  name  of  Salisbury ! 
But  such  is  the  infection  of  the  time,  20 

That,  for  the  health  and  physic  of  our  right, 
We  cannot  deal  but  with  the  very  hand 
Of  stern  injustice  and  confused  wrong. 
And  is  't  not  pity,  O  my  grieved  friends. 
That  we,  the  sons  and  children  of  this  isle. 
Were  bom  to  see  so  sad  an  hour  as  this : 
Wherein  we  step  after  a  stranger,  march 

99 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Upon  her  gentle  bosom,  and  fill  up 

Her  enemies'  ranks, — I  must  withdraw  and  weep 

Upon  the  spot  of  this  enforced  cause, —  30 

To  grace  the  gentry  of  a  land  remote. 

And  follow  unacquainted  colours  here? 

What,  here  ?     O  nation,  that  thou  couldst  remove ! 

That  Neptune's  arms,  who  clippeth  thee  about. 

Would  bear  thee  from  the  knowledge  of  thyself, 

And  grapple  thee  unto  a  pagan  shore ; 

Where  these  two  Christian  armies  might  combine 

The  blood  of  malice  in  a  vein  of  league, 

And  not  to  spend  it  so  unneighbourly ! 

Lew.  A  noble  temper  dost  thou  show  in  this  ;  40 

And  great  affections  wrestling  in  thy  bosom 
Doth  make  an  earthquake  of  nobility. 
O,  what  a  noble  combat  hast  thou  fought 
Between  compulsion  and  a  brave  respect ! 
Let  me  wipe  off  this  honourable  dew, 
That  silverly  doth  progress  on  thy  cheeks : 
My  heart  hath  melted  at  a  lady's  tears. 
Being  an  ordinary  inundation ; 
But  this  effusion  of  such  manly  drops, 
This  shower,  blown  up  by  tempest  of  the  soul,        50 
Startles  mine  eyes,  and  makes  me  more  amazed 
Than  had  I  seen  the  vanity  top  of  heaven 
Figured  quite  o'er  with  burning  meteors. 
Lift  up  thy  brow,  renowned  Salisbury, 
And  with  a  great  heart  heave  away  this  storm : 
Commend  these  waters  to  those  baby  eyes 
That  never  saw  the  giant  world  enraged; 
Nor  met  with  fortune  other  than  at  feasts. 
Full  of  warm  blood,  of  mirth,  of  gossiping. 
100 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

Come,  come ;   for  thou  shalt  thrust  thy  hand  as  deep 
Into  the  purse  of  rich  prosperity  6i 

As  Lewis  himself :   so,  nobles,  shall  you  all, 
That  knit  your  sinews  to  the  strength  of  mine. 
And  even  there,  methinks,  an  angel  spake: 

Enter  Pandulph. 

Look,  where  the  holy  legate  comes  apace, 
To  give  us  warrant  from  the  hand  of  heaven. 
And  on  our  actions  set  the  name  of  right 
With  holy  breath. 

Pand.  Hail,  noble  prince  of  France ! 

The  next  is  this,  King  John  hath  reconciled 
Himself  to  Rome ;   his  spirit  is  come  in,  70 

That  so  stood  out  against  the  holy  church, 
The  great  metropolis  and  see  of  Rome : 
Therefore  thy  threatening  colours  now  wind  up ; 
And  tame  the  savage  spirit  of  wild  war. 
That,  like  a    lion  foster'd  up  at  hand. 
It  may  lie  gently  at  the  foot  of  peace, 
And  be  no  further  harmful  than  in  show. 

Lew.  Your  grace  shall  pardon  me,  I  will  not  back : 
I  am  too  high-born  to  be  propertied, 
To  be  a  secondary  at  control,  80 

Or  useful  serving-man  and  instrument 
To  any  sovereign  state  throughout  the  world. 
Your  breath  first  kindled  the  dead  coal  of  wars 
Between  this  chastised  kingdom  and  myself. 
And  brought  in  matter  that  should  feed  this  fire ; 
And  now  'tis  far  too  huge  to  be  blown  out 
With  that  same  weak  wind  which  enkindled  it. 
You  taught  me  how  to  know  the  face  of  right, 

lOI 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Acquainted  me  with  interest  to  this  land, 

Yea,  thrust  this  enterprise  into  my  heart ;  90 

And  come  ye  now  to  tell  me  John  hath  made 

His   peace   with   Rome?      What    is    that   peace   to 

me? 
I,  by  the  Honour  of  my  marriage-bed, 
After  young  Arthur,  claim  this  land  for  mine ; 
And,  now  it  is  half-conquer'd,  must  I  back 
Because  that  John  hath  made  his  peace  with  Rome  ? 
Am    I    Rome's    slave?      What    penny    hath    Rome 

borne, 
What  men  provided,  what  munition  sent, 
To  underprop  this  action  ?     Is  't  not  I 
That  undergo  this  charge?   who  else  but  I,  100 

^     And  such  as  to  my  claim  are  liable, 

Sweat  in  this  business  and  maintain  this  war? 
Have  I  not  heard  these  islanders  shout  out 
*  Vive  le  roi ! '  as  I  have  bank'd  their  towns  ? 
Have  I  not  here  the  best  cards  for  the  game, 
To  win  this  easy  match  play'd  for  a  crown? 
And  shall  I  now  give  o'er  the  yielded  set  ? 
No,  no,  on  my  soul,  it  never  shall  be  said. 

Pand.  You  look  but  on  the  outside  of  this  work. 

Lew.  Outside  or  inside,  I  will  not  return  1 10 

Till  my  attempt  so  much  be  glorified 
As  to  my  ample  hope  was  promised 
Before  I  drew  this  gallant  head  of  war, 
And  cull'd  these  fiery  spirits  from  the  world. 
To  outlook  conquest  and  to  win  renown 
Even  in  the  jaws  of  danger  and  of  death. 

[Trumpet  sounds. 
What  lusty  trumpet  thus  doth  summon  us  ? 
102 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

Enten  the  Bastard,  attended. 

Bast,  According  to  the  fair-play  of  the  world, 
Let  me  have  audience ;  I  am  sent  to  speak : 
My  holy  lord  of  Milan,  from  the  king  120 

I  come,  to  learn  how  you  have  dealt  for  him ; 
And,  as  you  answer,  I  do  know  the  scope 
And  warrant  limited  unto  my  tongue. 

Band.  The  Dauphin  is  too  wilful-opposite, 

And  will  not  temporize  with  my  entreaties ; 
He  flatly  says  he  '11  not  lay  down  his  arms. 

Bast,  By  all  the  blood  that  ever  fury  breathed, 

The  youth  says  well.     Now  hear  our  English  king ; 
For  thus  his  royalty  doth  speak  in  me. 
He  is  prepared,  and  reason  too  he  should:  130 

This  apish  and  unmannerly  approach. 
This  harness'd  masque  and  unadvised  revel. 
This  unhair'd  sauciness  and  boyish  troops. 
The  king  doth  smile  at ;  and  is  well  prepared 
To  whip  this  dwarfish  war,  these  pigmy  arms. 
From  out  the  circle  of  his  territories. 
That  hand  which  had  the  strength,  even  at  your  door, 
To  cudgel  you  and  make  you  take  the  hatch. 
To  dive  like  buckets  in  concealed  wells. 
To  crouch  in  litter  of  your  stable  planks,  140 

To  lie  like  pawns  lock'd  up  in  chests  and  trunks, 
To  hug  with  swine,  to  seek  sweet  safety  out 
In  vaults  and  prisons,  and  to  thrill  and  shake 
Even  at  the  crying  of  your  nation's  crow. 
Thinking  his  voice  an  armed  Englishman ; 
Shall  that  victorious  hand  be  feebled  here. 
That  in  your  chambers  gave  you  chastisement  ? 
103 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

No :  know  the  gallant  monarch  is  in  arms 

And  like  an  eagle  o'er  his  aery  towers, 

To  souse  annoyance  that  comes  near  his  nest.         150 

And  you  degenerate,  you  ingrate  revolts, 

You  bloody  Neroes,  ripping  up  the  womb 

Of  your  dear  mother  England,  blush  for  shame ; 

For  your  own  ladies  and  pale-visaged  maids 

Like  Amazons  come  tripping  after  drums, 

Their  thimbles  into  armed  gauntlets  change. 

Their  needles  to  lances,  and  their  gentle  hearts 

To  fierce  and  bloody  inclination. 

Lew.  There  end  thy  brave,  and  turn  thy  face  in  peace ; 
We  grant  thou  canst  outscold  us  :  fare  thee  well ; 
We  hold  our  time  too  precious  to  be  spent  161 

With  such  a  brabbler. 

Pand.  Give  me  leave  to  speak. 

Bast.  No,  I  will  speak. 

Lew.  We  will  attend  to  neither. 

Strike  up  the  drums ;   and  let  the  tongue  of  war 
Plead  for  our  interest  and  our  being  here. 

Bast.  Indeed,  your  drums,  being  beaten,  will  cry  out ; 
And  so  shall  you,  being  beaten  :   do  but  start 
An  echo  with  the  clamour  of  thy  drum. 
And  even  at  hand  a  drum  is  ready  braced 
That  shall  reverberate  all  as  loud  as  thine ;  170 

Sound  but  another,  and  another  shall 
As  loud  as  thine  rattle  the  welkin's  ear 
And  mock  the  deep-mouth'd  thunder :   for  at  hand, 
Not  trusting  to  this  halting  legate  here. 
Whom  he  hath  used  rather  for  sport  than  need, 
Is  warlike  John ;   and  in  his  forehead  sits 
A  bare-ribb'd  death,  whose  office  is  this  day 
104 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

To  feast  upon  whole  thousands  of  the  French. 
Lew.  Strike  up  our  drums,  to  find  this  danger  out. 
Bast.  And  thou  shalt  find  it,  Dauphin,  do  not  doubt.  i8o 

[Exeunt. 

Scene  III. 

The  field  of  battle. 

Alarums.     Enter  King  John  and  Hubert. 

K.John.  How  goes  the  day  with  us  ?     O,  tell  me,  Hubert. 
JJiib.  Badly,  I  fear.     How  fares  your  majesty? 
K.  John.  This  fever,  that  hath  troubled  me  so  long, 
Lies  heavy  on  me ;   O,  my  heart  is  sick ! 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  My  lord,  your  valiant  kinsman,  Faulconbridge, 
Desires  your  majesty  to  leave  the  field 
And  send  him  word  by  me  which  way  you  go. 

K.  John.  Tell  him,  toward  Swinstead,  to  the  abbey  there. 

Mess.  Be  of  good  comfort ;  for  the  great  supply 

That  was  expected  by  the  Dauphin  here,  lo 

Are  wreck'd  three  nights  ago  on  Goodwin  Sands. 
This  news  was  brought  to  Richard  but  even  now : 
The  French  fight  coldly,  and  retire  themselves. 

K.  John.  Ay  me !  this  tyrant  fever  burns  me  up. 
And  will  not  let  me  welcome  this  good  news. 
Set  on  toward  Swinstead :   to  my  litter  straight ; 
Weakness  possesseth  me,  and  I  am  faint.        [Exeunt. 


105 


Act  V.  Sc.  iv.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Scene  IV. 

Another  part  of  the  Held. 

Enter  Salisbury,  Pembroke,  and  Bigot. 

Sal.  I  did  not  tRink  the  king  so  stored  with  friends, 
Peni.  Up  once  again ;   put  spirit  in  the  French : 

If  they  miscarry,  we  miscarry  too. 
Sal.  That  misbegotten  devil,  Faulconbridge, 

In  spite  of  spite,  alone  upholds  the  day. 
Pem.  They  say  King  John  sore  sick  hath  left  the  field. 

Enter  Melun,  zvoimded. 

Mel.  Lead  me  to  the  revolts  of  England  here. 

Sal.  When  we  were  happy  we  had  other  names. 

Pem.  It  is  the  Count  Melun. 

Sal.  Wounded  to  death. 

Mel.  Fly,  noble  English,  you  are  bought  and  sold ;        lo 
Unthread  the  rude  eye  of  rebellion 
And  welcome  home  again  discarded  faith. 
Seek  out  King  John  and  fall  before  his  feet ; 
For  if  the  French  be  lords  of  this  loud  day, 
He  means  to  recompense  the  pains  you  take 
By  cutting  off  your  heads :  thus  hath  he  sworn 
And  I  with  him,  and  many  moe  with  me. 
Upon  the  altar  at  Saint  Edmundsbury ; 
Even  on  that  altar  where  we  swore  to  you 
Dear  amity  and  everlasting  love. 

Sal.  May  this  be  possible?  may  this  be  true? 

Mel.  Have  I  not  hideous  death  within  my  view, 
Retaining  but  a  quantity  of  life. 
Which  bleeds  away,  even  as  a  form  of  wax 
Resolveth  from  his  figure  'gainst  the  fire  r 

io6 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  V.  Sc.  iv. 

What  In  the  world  should  make  me  now  deceive, 
Since  I  must  lose  the  use  of  all  deceit? 
Why  should  I  then  be  false,  since  it  is  true 
That  I  must  die  here  and  live  hence  by  truth  ? 
I  say  again,  if  Lewis  do  win  the  day,  30 

He  is  forsworn,  if  e'er  those  eyes  of  yours 
Behold  another  day  break  in  the  east : 
But  even  this  night,  whose  black  contagious  breath 
Already  smokes  about  the  burning  crest 
Of  the  old,  feeble  and  day-wearied  sun, 
Even  this  ill  night,  your  breathing  shall  expire, 
Paying  the  fine  of  rated  treachery 
Even  with  a  treacherous  fine  of  all  your  lives, 
If  Lewis  by  your  assistance  win  the  day. 
Commend  me  to  one  Hubert  with  your  king :  40 

The  love  of  him,  and  this  respect  besides. 
For  that  my  grandsire  was  an  Englishman, 
Awakes  my  conscience  to  confess  all  this. 
In  lieu  whereof,  I  pray  you,  bear  me  hence 
From  forth  the  noise  and  rumour  of  the  field, 
Where  I  may  think  the  remnant  of  my  thoughts 
In  peace,  and  part  this  body  and  my  soul 
With  contemplation  and  devout  desires. 
Sal.  We  do  believe  thee :  and  beshrew  my  soul 

But  I  do  love  the  favour  and  the  form  50 

Of  this  most  fair  occasion,  by  the  which 
We  will  untread  the  steps  of  damned  flight. 
And  like  a  bated  and  retired  flood. 
Leaving  our  rankness  and  irregular  course. 
Stoop  low  within  those  bounds  we  have  o'erlook'd. 
And  calmly  run  on  in  obedience 
Even  to  our  ocean,  to  our  great  King  John. 
107 


Act  V.  Sc.  V.  THE  LIFE  AND 

My  arm  shall  give  thee  help  to  bear  thee  hence ; 
For  I  do  see  the  cruel  pangs  of  death 
Right  in  thine  eye.     Away,  my  friends  !     New  flight : 
And  happy  newness,  that  intends  old  right.  6i 

{Exeunt,  leading  off  Melun. 

Scene  V. 

The  French  camp. 
Enter  Lewis  and  his  train. 

Lew.  The  sun  of  heaven  methought  was  loath  to  set, 
But  stay'd  and  made  the  western  welkin  blush, 
When  English  measure  backward  their  own  ground 
In  faint  retire.     O,  bravely  came  we  off, 
When  with  a  volley  of  our  needless  shot, 
After  such  bloody  toil,  we  bid  good  night ; 
And  wound  our  tottering  colours  clearly  up, 
Last  in  the  field,  and  almost  lords  of  it ! 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  Where  is  my  prince,  the  Dauphin  ? 

Lew.  Here :  what  news  ? 

Mess.  The  Count  Melun  is  slain ;   the  EngHsh  lords     lo 
By  his  persuasion  are  again  fall'n  off. 
And  your  supply,  which  you  have  wish'd  so  long. 
Are  cast  away  and  sunk  on  Goodwin  Sands. 

Lezu.  Ah,  foul  shrewd  news  !  beshrew  thy  very  heart ! 
I  did  not  think  to  be  so  sad  to-night 
As  this  hath  made  me.     Who  was  he  that  said 
King  John  did  fly  an  hour  or  two  before 
The  stumbling  night  did  part  our  weary  powers? 

Mess.  Whoever  spoke  it,  it  is  true,  my  lord. 

io8 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  V.  Sc.  vi. 

Lew.  Well ;  keep  good  quarter  and  good  care  to-night : 
The  day  shall  not  be  up  so  soon  as  I,  21 

To  try  the  fair  adventure  of  to-morrow.        [Exeunt, 

Scene  VI. 

An  open  place  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Swinstead  Abbey, 

Enter  the  Bastard  and  Hubert,  severally. 

Hub.  Who  's  there  ?  speak,  ho !  speak  quickly,  or  I  shoot. 

Bast.  A  friend.     What  art  thou? 

Hub.  Of  the  part  of  England. 

Bast.  Whither  dost  thou  go  ? 

Hub.  What 's  that  to  thee?  why  may  not  I  demand 

Of  thine  affairs,  as  well  as  thou  of  mine  ? 
Bast.  Hubert,  I  think. 
Hub.  Thou  hast  a  perfect  thought : 

I  will  upon  all  hazards  well  believe 

Thou  art  my  friend,  thou  know'st  my  tongue  so  well. 

Who  art  thou  ? 
Bast.  Who  thou  w^ilt :   and  if  thou  please. 

Thou  mayst  befriend  me  so  much  as  to  think  10 

I  come  one  way  of  the  Plantagenets. 
Hub.  Unkind  remembrance !   thou  and  eyeless  night 

Have  done  me  shame :  brave  soldier,  pardon  me. 

That  any  accent  breaking  from  thy  tongue 

Should  'scape  the  true  acquaintance  of  mine  ear. 
Bast.  Come,  come ;   sans  compliment,  what  news  abroad  ? 
Hub.  Why,  here  walk  I  in  the  black  brow  of  night, 

To  find  you  out. 
Bast.  Brief,  then ;   and  what 's  the  news  ? 

Hub.  O,  my  sweet  sir,  news  fitting  to  the  night, 

109 


Act  V.  Sc.  vii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Black,  fearful,  comfortless  and  horrible.  20 

Bast.  Show  me  the  very  wound  of  this  ill  news ; 
I  am  no  woman,  I  '11  not  swoon  at  it. 

Hub.  The  king,  I  fear,  is  poison'd  by  a  monk : 
I  left  him  almost  speechless ;   and  broke  out 
To  acquaint  you  with  this  evil,  that  you  might 
The  better  arm  you  to  the  sudden  time, 
Than  if  you  had  at  leisure  known  of  this. 

Bast.  How  did  he  take  it?  who  did  taste  to  him? 

Hub.  A  monk,  I  tell  you ;  a  resolved  villain. 

Whose  bowels  suddenly  burst  out :  the  king  30 

Yet  speaks  and  peradventure  may  recover. 

Bast.  Who  didst  thou  leave  to  tend  his  majesty? 

Hub.  Why,  know  you  not?  the  lords  are  all  come  back, 
And  brought  Prince  Henry  in  their  company ; 
At  whose  request  the  king  hath  pardon'd  them, 
And  they  are  all  about  his  majesty. 

Bast.  Withhold  thine  indignation,  mighty  heaven, 
And  tempt  us  not  to  bear  above  our  power ! 
I  '11  tell  thee,  Hubert,  half  my  power  this  night, 
Passing  these  flats,  are  taken  by  the  tide ;  40 

These  Lincoln  Washes  have  devoured  them ; 
Myself,  well  mounted,  hardly  have  escaped. 
Away  before :  conduct  me  to  the  king ; 
I  doubt  he  will  be  dead  or  ere  I  come.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  VIL 

The  orchard  at  Sivinstead  Abbey. 

Enter  Prince  Henry,  Salisbury,  and  Bigot. 

P.  Hen.  It  is  too  late :  the  life  of  all  his  blood 
Is  touch'd  corruptibly,  and  his  pure  brain, 

no 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  V.  Sc.  vii. 

Which  some  suppose  the  soul's  frail  dwelling-house, 
Doth  by  the  idle  comments  that  it  makes 
Foretell  the  ending  of  mortality. 

Enter  Pembroke. 

Pern.  His  highness  yet  doth  speak,  and  holds  belief 
That,  being  brought  into  the  open  air, 
It  would  allay  the  burning  quality 
Of  that  fell  poison  which  assaileth  him. 

P,  Hen.  Let  him  be  brought  into  the  orchard  here.        lO 
Doth  he  still  rage  ?  [Exit  Bigot. 

Pern.  He  is  more  patient 

Than  when  you  left  him ;  even  now  he  sung. 

P.  Hen.  O  vanity  of  sickness !   fierce  extremes 
In  their  continuance  will  not  feel  themselves. 
Death,  having  prey'd  upon  the  outward  parts, 
Leaves  them  invisible,  and  his  siege  is  now 
Against  the  mind,  the  which  he  pricks  and  wounds 
With  many  legions  of  strange  fantasies. 
Which,  in  their  thjong  and  press  to  that  last  hold. 
Confound     themselves.     Tis     strange     that     death 
should  sing.  20 

I  am  the  cygnet  to  this  pale  faint  swan, 
Who  chants  a  doleful  hymn  to  his  own  death, 
And  from  the  organ-pipe  of  frailty  sings 
His  soul  and  body  to  their  lasting  rest. 

Sal.  Be  of  good  comfort,  prince ;  for  you  are  born 
To  set  a  form  upon  that  indigest 
Which  he  hath  left  so  shapeless  and  so  rude. 

Enter  Attendants,  and  Bigot,  carrying  King  John  in  oj 

chair. 

'K.  John.  Ay,  marry,  now  my  soul  hath  elbow-room  ; 

III 


Act  V.  Sc.  vii.  XHE  LIFE  AND 

It  would  not  out  at  windows  nor  at  doors. 

There  is  so  hot  a  summer  in  my  bosom,  30 

That  all  my  bowels  crumble  up  to  dust : 

I  am  a  scribbled  form,  drawn  with  a  pen 

Upon  a  parchment,  and  against  this  fire 

Do  I  shrink  up. 

P.  Hen.  4:       How  fares  your  majesty  ? 

K.  John.  Poison'd, — ill  fare — dead,  forsook,  cast  off : 
And  none  of  you  will  bid  the  winter  come 
To  thrust  his  icy  fingers  in  my  maw, 
Nor  let  my  kingdom's  rivers  take  their  course 
Through  my  burn'd  bosom,  nor  entreat  the  north 
,     To  make  his  bleak  winds  kiss  my  parched  lips         40 
And  comfort  me  with  cold.     I  do  not  ask  you  much, 
I  beg  cold  comfort ;  and  you  are  so  strait 
And  so  ingrateful,  you  deny  me  that. 

P.  Hen.  O  that  there  were  some  virtue  in  my  tears. 
That  might  relieve  you ! 

K.  John.  The  salt  in  them  is  hot. 

Within  me  is  a  hell ;  and  there  the  poison 
Is  as  a  fiend  confined  to  tyrannize 
On  unreprieveable  condemned  blood. 

Enter  the  Bastard. 

Bast.  O,  I  am  scalded  with  my  violent  motion, 

And  spleen  of  speed  to  see  your  majesty !  50 

K.  John.  O  cousin,  thou  art  come  to  set  mine  eye : 
The  tackle  of  my  heart  is  crack'd  and  burn'd. 
And  all  the  shrouds  wherewith  my  life  should  sail 
Are  turned  to  one  thread,  one  little  hair : 
My  heart  hath  one  poor  string  to  stay  it  by. 
Which  holds  but  till  thy  news  be  uttered ; 
;i2 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Act  V.  Sc.  vii. 

And  then  all  this  thou  seest  is  but  a  clod 
And  module  of  confounded  royalty. 

Bast.  The  Dauphin  is  preparing  hitherward, 

Where  heaven  He  knows  how  we  shall  answer  him ; 

For  in  a  night  the  best  part  of  my  power,  6i 

As  lupon  advantage  did  remove, 

Were  in  the  Washes  all  unwarily       % 

Devoured  by  the  unexpected  flood.      [  The  King  dies. 

Sal.  You  breathe  these  dead  news  in  as  dead  an  ear. 
My  liege !  my  lord !  but  now  a  king,  now  thus. 

P.  Hen.  Even  so  must  I  run  on,  and  even  so  stop. 
What  surety  of  the  world,  what  hope,  what  stay. 
When  this  was  now  a  king,  and  now  is  clay  ? 

Bast.  Art  thou  gone  so?     I  do  but  stay  behind  70 

To  do  the  office  for  thee  of  revenge. 
And  then  my  soul  shall  wait  on  thee  to  heaven, 
As  it  on  earth  hath  been  thy  servant  still. 
Now,  now,  you  stars  that  move  in  your  right  spheres, 
Where  be  your  powers?    show  now  your  mended 

faiths. 
And  instantly  return  with  me  again, 
To  push  destruction  and  perpetual  shame 
Out  of  the  weak  door  of  our  fainting  land. 
Straight  let  us  seek,  or  straight  we  shall  be  sought; 
The  Dauphin  rages  at  our  very  heels.  80 

Sal.  It  seems  you  know  not,  then,  so  much  as  we : 
The  Cardinal  Pandulph  is  within  at  rest, 
Who  half  an  hour  since  came  from  the  Dauphin, 
And  brings  from  him  such  offers  of  our  peace 
As  we  with  honour  and  respect  may  take, 
With  purpose  presently  to  leave  this  war. 

Bast.  He  will  the  rather  do  it  when  he  sees 
Ourselves  well  sinewed  to  our  defence. 

113 


Act  V.  Sc.  vii.  THE  LIFE  AND 

Sal.  Nay,  it  is  in  a  manner  done  already ; 

For  many  carriages  he  hath  dispatch'd  90 

To  the  sea-side,  and  put  his  cause  and  quarrel 

To  the  disposing  of  the  cardinal : 

With  whom  yourself,  myself  and  other  lords, 

If  you  think  meet,  this  afternoon  will  post 

To  consumyiate  this  business  happily. 

Bast.  Let  it  be  so :  and  you,  my  noble  prince. 

With  other  princes  that  may  best  be  spared. 
Shall  wait  upon  your  father's  funeral. 

P.  Hen.  At  Worcester  must  his  body  be  interr'd ; 
For  so  he  will'd  it. 

Bast.  Thither  shall  it  then:  100 

And  happily  may  your  sweet  self  put  on 
The  lineal  state  and  glory  of  the  land! 
To  whom,  with  all  submission,  on  my  knee 
I  do  bequeath  my  faithful  services 
And  true  subjection  everlastingly. 

Sal.  And  the  like  tender  of  our  love  we  make, 
To  rest  without  a  spot  for  evermore. 

P.  Hen.  I  have  a  kind  soul  that  would  give  you  thanks 
And  knows  not  how  to  do  it  but  with  tears. 

Bast.  O,  let  us  pay  the  time  but  needful  woe,  no 

Since  it  hath  been  beforehand  with  our  griefs. 
This  England  never  did,  nor  never  shall. 
Lie  at  the  proud  foot  of  a  conqueror, 
But  when  it  first  did  help  to  wound  itself. 
Now  these  her  princes  are  come  home  again, 
Come  the  three  corners  of  the  world  in  arms. 
And  we  shall  shock  them.   Nought  shall  make  us  rue. 
If  England  to  itself  do  rest  but  true.  [Exeunt. 


114 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Glossary. 


A'  =  he;  I.  i.  68. 

Absey  book,  i.e.  ABC  book; 

a    primer,    which    sometimes 

included    a   catechism ;    I.    i. 

196. 
Abstract,    epitome,     summary ; 

II.  i.  Id. 
Adjunct,    consequent;    III.    iii. 

57. 
Advantage,  profit,  interest;  III. 

iii.  22. 
Adverse,     inimicable,     hostile ; 

IV.  ii.   172. 

Advice,  deliberate  considera- 
tion; III.  iv.  II. 

Advised,  "  well  a.,"  consider- 
ate; III.  i.  5. 

Aery,  eagle's  brood;  V.  ii.  149. 

Aifecteth,  resembleth ;  I.  i.  86. 

Affections,    passions,    feelings; 

V.  ii.  41. 

Affliction,  afflicted  one;  III.  iv. 
36. 

Aim;  "  cry  a." ;  an  expression 
borrowed  from  archery  =  to 
encourage  the  archers  by  cry- 
ing out  aim  when  they  were 
about  to  shoot,  and  then  in 
a  general  sense  to  applaud, 
to  encourage  with  cheers;  II. 
i.  196. 

Airy,  dwelling  in  the  air;  III. 
ii.  2. 

Amazed,  bewildered;  IV.  ii. 
137- 


An;  "an  if";  an  used  to  em- 
phasize if;  1.  i.  138. 

Anatomy,  skeleton;  III,  iv.  40. 

Angel;  a  gold  coin  of  the  value 
of  ten  shillings,  with  the  fig- 
ure of  Michael  and  the 
dragon;  II.  i.  590;  III.  iii.  8; 
play  upon  "  angel  "  and  "  no- 
ble "  (value  six  shillings  and 
eightpence)  ;  V.  ii.  64. 

Angerly,  angrily;  IV.  i.  82. 

Anglers,  Angers,  the  capital  of 
Anjou;  II.  i.  i. 

Answer,  face ;  V.  vii.  60. 

Answered,  atoned ;  IV.  ii.  89. 

Apparent,  plain,  evident;  IV.  ii. 
93- 

Armado,  fleet  of  war-ships ; 
III.  iv.  2. 

Arms,  heraldic  device,  IV.  iii. 
47. 

Arms,  "  in  arms,"  armed ;  III. 
i.  102;  in  embracement ;  III. 
i.   103. 

Arras,  embroidered  hangings 
which  covered  the  walls ;  IV. 
i.  2. 

Articles,  particular  items  in  a 
writing  or  discourse;  II.  i. 
III. 

Artificer,  artisan;  IV.  ii.  201. 

Aspect,  look,  air;  IV.  ii.  72. 

Assured,  betrothed ;  II.  i.  535. 

^^  =  by;  V.  ii.  75. 


115 


Glossary 


THE  LIFE  AND 


Ate  (Folios,  "Ace"),  Goddess 
of  Mischief;  II.  i.  63. 

Avaunt,  exclamation  of  con- 
tempt or  abhorrence,  away ! 
begone !  IV.  iii.  77. 

Aweless,  unawed,  fearless ;  I. 
i.  266. 

Back,  go  back;  V.  il.  78,  95. 
Bank'd,  sailed  along  the  river- 
banks;  V.  ii.  104. 
Bare-ribh'd,     skeleton;     V.     ii. 

177- 
Bastinado,  a  sound  beating;  II. 

i.  463. 
Bated,  abated,    diminished;   V. 

iv.  53. 
Battles,    armies    drawn    up    in 

battle  array ;  IV.  ii.  78. 
Beadle:  II.  i.  188. 


The  Beadle  to  the  University  of  Paris. 
From  a  painted  glass  window  in  the  Pa- 
ris National  Library  (/^»z/.  Francis  I.). 

5^c^.y  =  beckons ;  III.  iii.  13. 
Become,  adorn,  grace ;  V.  i.  55. 
Bedlam,  lunatic;  II.  i.  183. 
Beguiled,  cheated;  III.  i.  99. 


Behalf;  "  in  right  and  true  b.," 
on  behalf  of  the  rightful  and 
true  claim ;  I.  i.  7. 

Behaviour,  "  in  my  b.,"  i.e.  "  in 
the  tone  and  character  which 
I  here  assume  " ;  I.  i.  3. 

Beholding,  beholden ;   I.  i.  239. 

Beldams,  old  women,  hags ; 
used  contemptuously ;  IV.  ii. 
185. 

Bent,  directed,  pointed;  II.  i. 
Z7- 

Bequeath,  transfer;  V.  vii.  104. 

Beshrew  my  soul,  a  mild  oath; 
V.  iv.  49. 

Betime,  quickly,  before  it  is  too 
late;  IV.  iii.  98. 

Betters,  superiors  in  rank;  I.  i. 
156. 

Bias,  that  which  draws  in  a 
particular  direction ;  prepon- 
derant activity ;  originally 
the  weight  of  lead  let  into 
one  side  of  a  bowl  in  order 
to  make  it  turn  towards  that 
side;  II.  i.  574- 

Blood,  "lusty  blood,"  hasty, 
impetuous  spirit;  II.  i.  461. 


From  a  tract  entitled  A  Speedy  Post, 
ivitJi  a  Packet  of  Letters  and  Com- 
pliments, n.d. 


116 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Glossary 


Blood;  "  true  b.,"  blood  of  the 

rightful  heir;  III.  iv.  147. 
Bloods,   men   of   mettle ;    II.   i. 

278. 
Blots,  disfigurements  ;  III.  i.  45. 
Blow  a  horn,  etc.;  I.  i.  219. 
Boisterous,   rude,   violent ;    IV. 

i.  95. 
Borrowed,  false,  counterfeit ;  I. 

i.  4. 
Bottoms,  ships;  II.  i.  y2>-     {Cp. 

illustration.) 


From  an  illuminated  MS.  of  XVth  cent. 

Bought  and  sold,  betrayed;  V. 
iv.  10. 

Bounds,  boundaries ;  III.  i.  23. 

Brabbler,  quarreller,  noisy  fel- 
low; V.  ii.  162. 

Brave,  bravado,  defiant  speech; 
V.  ii.  159- 

Brave,  defy ;  V.  i.  70. 

Breathes,  takes  breath ;  III. 
ii.4. 

Brief,  short  document ;  a  legal 
term;  II.  i.  103. 

Brief  in  hand,  speedily  to  be 
dispatched;  IV.  iii.  158. 


Broke  out,  escaped ;  V.  vi.  24. 

Broke  zvith,  opened  my  heart, 
communicated ;  IV.  ii.  227. 

Broker,  agent ;  II.  i.  568. 

Brows,  walls  (used  figura- 
tively) ;  II.  i.  38. 

Buss,  kiss ;  III.  iv.  35. 

But,  except.  III.  i.  92 ;  but  that, 

IV.  i.    128 ;    "  but    now  "  = 
just  now,  V.  vii.  66. 

By  this  light,  a  mild  oath ;  I.  i. 
259- 

Calf's-skin,  a  coat  made  of 
calf's-skin ;  the  distinguish- 
ing garment  of  a  fool;  III.  i. 
129. 

Call,  a  cry  to  entice  birds  to 
return ;  III.  iv.  174. 

Canker,  corroding  evil ;  V.  ii. 
14. 

Canker'd,  venomous,  wicked; 
II.  i.   194. 

Capable  of,  susceptible  to ;  III. 
i.  12. 

Censured,  judged;  II.  i.  328. 

Chafed  (the  Folios,  "cased"; 
Theobald's  emendation),  en- 
raged; III.  i.  259. 

'Champion  of  our  Church'; 
"  the  King  of  France  was 
styled  the  Eldest  son  of  the 
Church  and  the  Most  Chris- 
tian King";  III.  i.  267. 

Chaps,  jaws,  the  mouth;  II.  i. 
352. 

Chastised,    severely    punished ; 

V.  ii.  84. 

Chafillon  (Chatillion,  in  the 
Folios),  quadrisyllable;  I.  i. 
30. 


117 


Glossary 


THE  LIFE  AND 


Check,  control ;  an  allusion  to 
the  game  of  chess ;  "  the 
Queen  of  the  chessboard  was, 
in  this  country,  invested  with 
those  remarkable  powers  that 
render  her  by  far  the  most 
powerful  piece  in  the  game, 
somewhere  about  the  second 
decade  of  the  i6th  century 
(Staunton)  ;  II.  i.  123. 

Christendom,  baptism,  Chris- 
tianity; IV.  i.  16. 

Churlish,  rough,  rude ;  II.  i. 
76;  niggardly;  II.  i.  519. 

Cincture  (Pope's  reading  ; 
Folios,  "  center,"  perhaps  = 
French  ceinture),  girdle;  IV. 
iii.  155. 

Circumstance,  details ;  II.  i.  7. 

Clap  up,  join  hands  to  ratify  a 
compact;  III.  i.  235. 

Clearly,  completely ;  V.  v.  7. 

Climate,  region  of  the  sky;  II. 
i.  344. 

Clippeth  about,  embraceth ;  V. 
ii.  34. 

Close,  secret ;  IV.  ii.  72. 

Closely,  secretly;  IV.  i.  133. 

Closet,  private  apartment;  IV. 
ii.  267. 

Clouts;  "  a  babe  of  c,"  a  doll 
made  of  pieces  of  cloth,  a 
rag-doll;  III.  iv.  58. 

Clutch,  shut  close ;  II.  i.  589. 

Cocker' d,  pampered ;  V.  i.  70. 

Coil,  ado,  turmoil ;  II.  i.  165. 

Colbrand  the  Giant;  a  famous 
legendary  giant,  overthrown 
by  Guy  of  Warwick  before 
King  Athelstan  at  Winches- 
ter   {cp.  Ballad  of  Guy   and 


Colebrande,  in  Percy's 
Reliques)  ;  I.  i.  225. 

Coldly,  calmly,  tranquilly;  II. 
i-  53- 

Coy.imandment  on,  command 
of,  over ;  IV.  ii.  92. 

Commodity,  profit,  self-inter- 
est; II.  i.  573. 

Companies  =  company ;  IV.  ii. 
167. 

Composition,  compact;  II.  i. 
561. 

Compound,  agree,  settle;  II.  i. 
281. 

Compulsion,  compelling  cir- 
cumstances ;  V.  ii.  44. 

Conceit,  mental  faculty,  intelli- 
gence ;   III.  iii.  50. 

Concludes,  settles  the  matter; 
I.  i.  127. 

Conduct,  escort,  guard ;  I.  i.  29. 

Confounded,  destroyed ;  V.  vii. 
58. 

Confusion,  ruin,  overthrow ;  II. 

i.  359- 

Conjure,  solemnly  enjoin;  IV. 
ii.  269. 

Consequently,  accordingly;  IV. 
ii.  240. 

Contemn' d,  despised;  V.  ii.  13. 

Control,  constraint;  I.  i.   17. 

Controlment,  compulsion ;  I.  i. 
20. 

Conversion,  change  to  superior 
rank;  I.  i.  189. 

Convertite,  convert ;  V.  i.  19. 

Convicted,  defeated,  o  v  e  r- 
powered;  III.  iv.  2. 

Coops,  shuts  up  (for  protec- 
tion) ;  II.  i,  25. 

Corruptibly,  causing  corrup- 
tion; V.  vii.  2. 


118 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Glossary 


Countries;  "  man  of  c,"  trav- 
eller; I.  i.  193. 

Cousin,  any  kinsman  or  kins- 
woman not  nearly  related ; 
in.  i.  339. 

Covetousness,  eagerness,  de- 
sire ;   IV.  ii.  29. 

Cracker,    blusterer,     braggart ; 

II.  i.  147. 

Create,  created ;  IV.  i.  107. 
Cross'd,  thwarted;  III.  i.  91. 
Cull,  choose  out,  select ;  II.  i.  40. 
Customed,     accustomed,     cus- 
tomary, common;  III.  iv.  155. 

Dead  news,  news  of  death ;  V. 
vii.  65. 

Deafs  =  deafens  ;  II.  i.  147. 

Dealt,  acted;  V.  ii.  121. 

Dear;  "  my  d.  offence,"  "  the 
offence  which  has  cost  me 
dear";  I.  i.  257. 

Defy,  despise,  denounce;  III. 
iv.  23. 

Departed,  parted ;  II.  i.  563. 

Device,  "  cut  and  ornaments  of 
a  garment  " ;  I.  i.  210. 

Dim,  "  wanting  the  fresh  as- 
pect of  life  and  health";  III. 
iv.  85. 

Disallow  of,  refuse ;  I.  i.  16. 

Discontents,  discontented  spir- 
its; IV.  iii.  151. 

Dishabited,  dislodged;  II.  i. 
220. 

Dispiteous,  pitiless ;  IV.  i.  34. 

Dispose,  disposal;  I.  i.  263. 

Disposed,  managed,   arranged; 

III.  iv.  II. 

Distempered,  disturbed  by  the 
elements,  III.  iv.  154;  angry, 
ill-humored;  IV.  iii.  21. 


Doff,  take  off;  III.  i.  128. 
Dogged,  cruel;  IV.  i.  129;  IV. 

iii.   149. 
Dominations,  dominion,  sover- 
eign power;  II.  i.  176. 
Doubt,  suspect,  fear ;  IV.  i.  19. 
Doubtless,  free  from  fear;  IV. 

i.  130. 
Down-trodden,  trampled  to  the 

ground;  II.  i.  241. 
Draw,  draw  out,  lengthen ;  II. 

i.  103. 
Drazvn,  drawn  together;  IV.  ii. 

118. 
Drew,  levied;  V.  ii.  113. 
Dunghill;  a  term  of  contempt 

for    a    person    meanly    born 

(=  "  dunghill  cur  ")  ;  IV.  iii. 

87. 
Dust,  '*'  a  d.,"  a  particle  of  dust ; 

IV.  i.  93. 

Eat,  eaten ;  I.  i.  234. 

Effect,  import,  tenour ;  IV.  i. 
38. 

Embassy,  message  entrusted  to 
an  ambassador;  I.  i.  6,  22. 

Embattailed,  drawn  up  in  bat- 
tle order ;  IV.  ii.  200. 

Embounded,  enclosed;  IV.  iii. 
137. 

Endamagement,  injury,  harm; 
II.  i.  209. 

Enforced,  compelled ;  V.  ii.  30. 

Enfranchisement,  release  from 
prison,  deliverance;  IV.  ii. 
52. 

Equity,  justice;  II.  i.  241. 

Even,  exactly,  just;  III.  i.  233. 

Excommunicate  =  excommuni- 
cated; III.  i.  173. 


119 


Glossary 


THE  LIFE  AND 


Exercise;  "  good  exercise," 
education  befitting  a  noble 
youth;  IV.  ii.  60. 

Exhalation,    meteor;     III.     iv. 

153. 
Expedient,   expeditious,   quick; 

II.  i.  60. 
Expire,  come  to  an  end,  cease ; 

V.  iv.  36. 
Extremes,  acts  of  cruelty;  IV. 

i.  108. 

Fair,  clearly,  distinctly;   IV.  i. 

Fair  fall,  fair  fortune  befall ; 
I.  i.  78. 

Fall  from,  desert ;  III.  i.  320. 

Fall'n  off,  deserted;  V.  v.  11. 

Fantasied;  "  strangely  f.,"  filled 
with  strange  fancies;  IV.  ii. 
144. 

Fashion' d;  "  so  new  a  f.  robe," 
a  robe  of  so  new  a  fashion ; 
IV.  ii.  27. 

Fast  and  loose,  a  cheating  game 
of  gipsies  and  other  vagrants, 
the  drift  of  which  was  to 
encourage  wagers,  as  to 
whether  a  knot  was  fast  or 
loose;  III.  i.  242. 

Fearful;  "  fearful  action,"  ges- 
tures of  fear;  IV.  ii.  191. 

Feature,  form,  external  appear- 
ance ;  IV.  ii.  264. 

Fell,  fierce,  cruel ;  III.  iv.  40. 

Fence,  skill  in  fencing;  II.  i. 
290. 

Fetch  about,  turn,  veer  round; 
IV.  ii.  24. 

Field,  battle-field;  V.  i.  55. 

Fine,  punishment,  V.  iv.  2)7^  38> 


end;   with   a  play  upon  the 
two  senses  of  the  word. 

Flats,  low  ground ;  V.  vi.  40. 

Fleet,  pass  away  with  rapidity; 

II.  i.  285. 

Flesh,  "  make  fierce  and  eager 

for  combat  " ;  V.  i.  71. 
Fleshly  land,  land  of  flesh;  IV. 

ii.  245. 
Flood,  ocean,  sea;  III.  iv.  i. 
Flout,  scorn,  mock;  II.  i.  2)7Z- 
Fondly,  foolishly;  II.  i.  258. 
Footing;  "  upon  the  f.  of  our 

land,"     standing     upon     our 

own  soil ;  V.  i.  66. 
For,  because;  II.  i.  591. 
Forage,  prowl  about  like  a  lion 

in  search  of  prey ;  V.  i.  59. 
For   because  =:  because ;    II.    i. 

588. 
Forgo,  give  up,  renounce ;  III. 

i.  207. 
For-cvearicd,     worn     out,     ex- 
hausted; II.  i.  233. 
Foster' d  up,  reared ;  V.  ii.  75. 
France,   the    King   of    France ; 

I.  i.  I. 
From,  away  from,  foreign ;  IV. 

iii.  151. 
Fulsome,  nauseous,  disgusting; 

III.  iv.  32. 

Gall,  wound,  hurt ;  IV.  iii.  94, 
95. 

Gazvds,  toys,  trifling  orna- 
ments ;  III.  iii.  ^6. 

Give  off,  take  ofif,  give  up ;  V. 
i.  27. 

Give  azvay,  permit  to  pass  be- 
fore us ;   I.  i.   156. 

Glister,  glitter,  shine;  V.i.  54. 


120 


DEATH  or  KING  JOHN 


Glossary 


Gone,  despatched,  dead;  III. 
iv.  163. 

Good  den,  good  e^^ening;  I.  i. 
185. 

Goods,  good,  advantage ;  IV. 
ii.  64. 

Gracious,  full  of  grace,  lovely ; 
III.  iv.  81. 

Greens,  grassy  plains,  mead- 
ows ;  II.  i.  242. 

Grossly,  stupidly;  III.  i.  163, 
168.* 

Guard,  ornament ;  IV.  ii.  10. 

Half-faced  groat;  groats  and 
half-groats  with  the  profile 
or  half-face  of  the  King,  were 
first  struck  in  1503;  I.  i.  94. 


From  a  specimen  of  the  time  of  Henry 
VIL,  who  first  minted  these  coins. 

Halting,    dilatory;    V.    ii.    174. 
Handkercher    =    handkerchief 

IV.  i.  42. 

Harbourage,  shelter ;  II.  i.  234. 
Harness'd,  dressed  in  armour ; 

V.  ii.  132. 

Hatch,  half  door;  "take  the 
h.,"  jump  the  half  door;  V. 
ii.  138. 

Head  of  zvar,  armed  force ;  V. 
ii.  113. 

H^af  =  heated;  IV.  i.  61. 

Heinous,  odious;  III.  iv.  90. 

Hence,  hereafter ;  V.  iv.  29. 


i7/.y=its;  IV.  iii.  32. 

Hold,  restrain ;  IV.  ii.  82. 

Hold  hands  with,  is  on  terms 
of  equality  with ;  II.  i.  495. 

Holp,  helped;  I.  i.  240. 

Humorous,  capricious;  III.  i. 
119. 

Humours,  "  unsettled  h.,"  rest- 
less spirits;  II.  i.  66;  whims; 
IV.  ii.  209. 

Hurly  =  hurly-burly ;  confu- 
sion, uproar;  III.  iv.  169. 

Idly,   casually,    carelessly;    IV. 

ii.  124. 
Impeach,  accuse;  II.  i.  116. 
Importance,  importunity;  II.  i. 

7- 
In  =  on  ;  I.  i.  99. 

Indifferency,  impartiality ;  II.  i. 

579- 
Indigest,  chaos ;  V.  vii.  26. 
Indirect,   lawless,    wrong;    III. 

i.  275. 

Indirection,  wrong,  dishonest 
practice;  III.  i.  276. 

Indirectly,  wrongfully  ;  II.  i.  49. 

Industrious,  zealous,  laborious ; 
II.  i.  376. 

Infant  state,  infant  majesty,  or, 
state  that  belongs  to  an  in- 
fant;  II.  i.  97. 

Infortunate,  unfortunate;  II.  i. 

Ingratc,  ungrateful;  V.  ii.  151. 
Innocency,   innocence;    IV.   iii. 

no. 
Inquire   out,  seek  out;  IV.  iii. 

115. 
Intelligence,    spies,    informers; 

IV.  ii.  116. 
Interest  to,  claim  to;  V.  ii.  89. 


121 


Glossary 


THE  LIFE  AND 


Interrogatories,  a  technical 
law-term ;  questions  put  to  a 
witness  which  were  to  be  an- 
swered with  the  solemnities 
of  an  oath ;  III.  i.  147. 

Invasive,  invading;  V.  i.  69. 


Lineal,  hereditary,  due  by  right 

of  birth;  II.  i.  85. 
List,  listen,  give  ear ;  II.  i.  468. 
Litter,  a  couch  for  ladies  and 

sick  persons  in  travelling;  V. 

iii.    16. 


Illustration  of  a  litter,  from  a  drawing  in  the  MS,  History  of  the  Ktftgs  of  Prance 
(Royal  16  G  6j,  written  early  m  XlVth  century. 


Inveterate,  deep-rooted;  V.  ii, 
14. 

Joan,  a  common  name  for  a 
woman  among  rustics ;  I.  i. 
184. 

Joy,  glad ;  III.  iv.  107. 

Lasting,     everlasting,     eternal ; 

III.  iv.  27. 

Liable,   subject,    II.   i.   490;   fit, 

IV.  ii.  226;  allied,  associated, 

V.  ii.  loi. 

Lien  =  lain  :  IV.  i,  50. 
Lightning,  "  as  1.,"  as  swift  as 

lightning;  I.  i.  24. 
Like,  likely,  probable ;   III.   iv. 

49. 
Limited,    fixed,    appointed ;    V. 

ii.  123. 
Line,  thicken,   strengthen ;   IV. 

iii.  24. 


Make  up,  hasten  forward;  III, 

ii.  5. 
Manage,    taking    of    measures, 

administration ;  I.  i.  37. 
Many  carriages;  V  vii.  90. 


A  Medictvai  Carriage. 
From  the  MS.  of  Le  Romati  du  Roy 
Meliadits  (end  of  XlVth  century), 
formerly  in  the  Roxburghe  Library. 
The  elegant  form  of  the  wheel  is  note- 
worthy. 

Matter,  material,  fuel ;  V.  ii.  85. 
May,  can;  V.  iv.  21. 


122 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Glossary 


Meagre,  thin,  lean ;  III.  iv.  85. 

Means,  intends,  purposes;  III. 
iv.  119. 

Measures,  stately  dances ;  here 
used  for  the  music  accom- 
panying and  regulating  the 
motion  of  the  dance:  III.  i. 

304. 

Might,  could,  were  able;  II.  i. 

325. 
Minion,  favourite;  II.  i.  392. 
Mistempered     =     distempered, 

ill-tempered;  V.  i.  12. 
Mistook,  mistaken ;  III.  i.  274. 
Mocking,   deriding,    ridiculing ; 

V.  i.  72. 
Modern,  commonplace;  III.  iv. 

42. 
Module,  mould,  image;  V.  vii. 

58. 
Moe,  more;  V.  iv.  17. 
More,  greater ;   II.  i.  34. 
Mortal,  deadly;  III.  i.  259. 
Motion,  impulse;  I.  i.  212. 
Mounting,  aspiring;  I.  i.  206. 
Mousing,  worrying,  tearing  (as 

a  cat  does  a  mouse)  ;   II.   i. 

354;  _ 

Munition,    materials    for    war ; 

V.  ii.  98. 
Muse,  marvel,   wonder;    III.   i. 

317- 
Mutines,  mutineers ;   II.  i.  378. 

New,  lately;  III.  i.  233. 

Nice;  "  makes  nice  of,"  is  scru- 
pulous about;  III,  iv.  138. 

Nob,  contemptuous,  diminutive 
of  Robert;  I.  i.  147. 

No  had,  had  I  not?  IV.  ii.  207. 

Note;  "of  note,"  noted,  well 
known  ;  IV.  i.  121. 


Noted,  known;  IV.  ii.  21. 

Occasion,  necessity,  cause,  II. 
i.  82;  "occasions,"  opportu- 
nities, IV.  ii.  62 ;  course  of 
events,  IV.  ii.  125. 

O'erhearing,  bearing  down, 
over-powering;  III.  iv.  9. 

0/  =  from;  III.  iv.  55. 

Offend,  harm,  hurt ;  IV.  i.  132. 

Offer,  attempt ;  IV.  ii.  94. 

Opposite,  contrary;  III.  i.  254. 

Oppression;  ^  our  o."  ==  op- 
pression of  us,  our  injury; 
III.  i.  106. 

Out-faced,  supplanted,  put 
down  by  arrogance  and  in- 
timidation ;  II.  i.  97. 

Outlook,  face  down;  V.  ii.  115. 

Outward  eye;  a  metaphor  de- 
rived from  the  game  of 
bowls ;  the  "  eye  of  a  bowl 
was  the  aperture  on  one  side 
which  contained  the  bias  or 
weight  "  ;  II.  i.  583. 

Overbear,  overrule;  IV.  ii.  27- 

Oive,  own ;  II.  i.  109. 

Painted,   artificial,   counterfeit; 

III.  i.  105. 
Parle,  parley;  II.  i   205. 
Pass,  refuse;  II.  i.  258. 
Passionate,  full  of  lamentation  ; 

II.  i.  544- 
Pazvns,  pledges ;  V.  ii.  141. 
Peering         o'er  r=  overpeering, 

overflowing;  III.  i.  22). 
Peevish,  wayward ;  II.  i.  402. 
Peised,  poised,  balanced;  II.  i. 

575- 
Pencil,  small  brush  used  to  lay 

on  colours;  III.  i.  237. 


123 


Glossary 


THE  LIFE  AND 


Peradventure,  perhaps ;  V.  vi. 
31. 

Peremptory,  determined ;  II.  i. 
454. 

Perfect,  right,  correct ;  V.  vi. 
6. 

Philip  sparrow;  the  popular 
name  of  the  sparrow  was 
Philip,  suggested  by  its  pe- 
culiar chirp  {cp.  Skelton's 
"Bake  of  Phylyp  Spar- 
rowe  ")  ;  I.  i.  231. 

Picked,  affected ;  I.  i.  193. 

Plots,  positions;  II.  i.  40. 

Possess' d  with,  informed  of; 
IV.  ii.  41. 

Patents,  potentates ;  II.  i.  358. 

Powers,  armed  force;  III.  iii. 
70. 

Practises,  plots;  IV.  i.  20. 

Prate,  prattle;  IV.  i.  25. 

Precedent,  "original  copy  of  a 
writing  "  ;  V.  ii.  3. 

Presages,  prognostications ;  III. 
iv.  158. 

Presence;  "lord  of  thy  p.," 
lord  of  only  your  fine  per- 
son;  I.  i.  137. 

Presently,  immediately ;  V.  vii. 
86. 

Princes  ■=^  lords ;  V.  vii.  97. 

Private,  private  communica- 
tion;  IV.  iii.  16. 

Prodigiously,  by  the  birth  of  a 
monster,  III.  i.  91. 

Propertied,  made  a  property  or 
tool  of;  V.  ii.  79. 

Provoke,  incite,  instigate;  IV. 
ii.  207. 

Puissance,  armed  force ;  III.  i. 
339. 

Pure,  clear ;  V.  vii.  2. 


Purpled  hands,  hands  stained 
with  blood,  like  those  of 
huntsmen,  by  cutting  up  the 
deer;  II.  i.  322. 

Purpose ;  "  had  a  p.,"  inten- 
tion ;  V.  i.  76. 

Put  o'er,  refer;  I.  i.  62. 

Pyrenean,  the  Pyrenees ;  I.  i. 
203. 

Quantity,  small  portion ;  V.  iv. 

Quarter ;  "  keep  good  q.,"  guard 
carefully  your  posts ;  V.  v. 
20. 

Quoted,  noted,  marked;  IV.  ii. 
222. 

i?a^^  =  rave;  V.  vii.  11. 

Ramping,  rampant ;  III.  i.  122. 

Rankness,  fulness  to  overflow- 
ing; V.  iv.  54. 

Reason,  it  is  reasonable;  V.  ii. 
130. 

Recreant,  cowardly,  faithless ; 
III.  i.  129. 

Refuse,  reject,  disown;  I.  i. 
127. 

Regreet,   greeting;    III.   i.   241. 

Rememhcrs,  reminds;  III.  iv. 
96. 

Remembrance,  memory  (quad- 
risyllable) ;  V.  ri.  2 ;  V.  vi. 
12. 

Remorse,  compassion ;  II.  i. 
478. 

Resolved,  resolute ;  V.  vi.  29. 

Resolvcth,  melteth ;  V.  iv.  25. 

Respect,  consideration,  reflec- 
tion ;  IV.  ii.  214. 

Respective,  showing  respect ;  I. 
i.  188. 


124 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Glossary 


Rest,  quiet  possession ;   IV.  ii. 

55. 

Retire  themselves  =  retire,  re- 
treat; V.  iii.  13. 

Revolts,  deserters,  rebels ;  V. 
ii.  151. 

Rheum,  moisture,  here  used  for 
tears;  III.  i.  22. 

Ribs,  walls;  II.  i.  384. 

Ripe,  ripen ;  II.  i.  472. 

Rounded,  whispered ;  II.  i.  566. 

Roundure,  enclosure ;  II.  i.  259. 

Rub,  obstacle,  impediment;  III. 
iv.  128. 

Rumour,  din,  tumult ;  IV.  ii.  45. 

Safety,  safe    custody ;    IV.    ii. 

Savagery,  atrocity ;  IV.  iii.  48. 
Scamble  =  scramble,    struggle ; 

IV.  iii.  146. 
Scath,    injury,    damage;    II.    i. 

75. 

Scope  of  nature,  natural  effect 
(Pope,  "scape,"  i.e.  freak); 
III.  iv.  154. 

Scroyles,  scabby  fellows,  ras- 
cals; II.  i.  373. 

Seal  to  the  indenture ;  II.  i.  20. 
(c/>.  the  annexed  illustration 
of  a  seal  attached  to  a  deed 
of  conveyance  dated  1613.) 


Secondary,  subordinate;  V.  ii. 
80. 

Secure,  free  from  care;  IV.  i. 
130. 

Semblance,  appearance,  dis- 
guise; IV.  iii.  4. 

Set,  a  term  at  cards,  as  well  as 
at  tennis ;  V.  ii.  107. 

Set  forzi'ard,  start  on  the  jour- 
ney ;  IV.  iii.  19. 

Shadozv,  reflection ;    II.   i.  498. 

Shadowing,  shielding,  protect- 
ing; II.  i.  14. 

Shall,  must;  V.  ii.  78. 

Shrezvd,  evil,  bad;  V.  v.  14. 

Shrouds,  sail-ropes;  V.  vii.  53. 

Sick  service,  service  in  sick- 
ness; IV.  i.  52. 

Sightless,  unsightly,  ugly;  III. 

i.  45. 
Sign'd,   marked,   branded;   IV. 

ii.  222. 
Set,  close;  V.  vii.  51. 
Skin-coat,  i.e.  lion's  skin  (taken 

from  Richard)  ;  II.  i.   139. 
Smacks,  savours;  II.  i.  396. 
Smoke,      thrash       (a      dialect 

word)  ;  II.  i.  I39- 
So  =  \i  only;  IV.  i.  17. 
Sole,  alone,  unique;  IV.  iii.  52. 
Solemnity,  marriage  ceremony; 

II.  i.  555. 
Sooth,  truth;  IV.  i.  29. 
Soothest  up,  dost  flatter  ("  up  " 

used    intensitively)  ;    III.    i. 

121. 
Soul-fearing,     soul-frightening, 

terrifying;  II.  i.  383. 
Sound,  give  voice  to  proclaim ; 

IV.  ii.  48. 
Souse,   a  term  in   falconry,   to 

pounce  upon ;  V.  ii.  150. 


125 


Glossary 


THE  LIFE  AND 


sped,  succeeded;  IV.  il.  141. 
Spend,  waste;  V.  ii.  39. 
Spirit,  monosyllabic;  II.  i.  232; 

V.  i.  53. 

Spleen,   heat,   passion ;   IV.   iii. 

97. 

Spot,  stain,  disgrace;  V.  ii.  30. 
Sprightfiil,  full  of  spirit,  high- 
spirited;  IV.  ii.  177. 
Staff,  lance;  II.  i.  318. 
State,  power,   majesty;   IV.   ii. 

243. 
States,  lords  of  high  estate ;  II. 

i-  395. 
Stay,    a   peremptory    check,   a 

command  to  stop;  II.  i.  455. 
Still,  continually;  V.  vii.  37. 
Still  and  anon,  now  and  again ; 

IV.  i.  47. 

Straight,    straightway;     II.     i. 

149- 

Strait,  parsimonious,  nig- 
gardly; V.  vii.  42. 

Stranger,  foreign;  V.  i.  11. 

Stumhling  night,  night  which 
causes  stumbling;  V.  v.  18. 

Sudden,  quick,  hasty,  IV.  i.  27 ; 
unprepared,  V.  vi.  26. 

Suggestions,  temptations,  in- 
citements to  evil-doing;  III. 
i.  292. 

Supernal,  placed  above,  heav- 
enly; II.  i.  112. 

Suspire,  draw  breath ;  III.  iv. 
80. 

Swinged,  thrashed,  whipped ; 
II.  i.  288. 

Table,  tablet   (on  which  a  pic- 
ture is  painted)  ;    II.   i.   503. 
Take  =  make;  III.  i.  17. 


'  St.  George  that  swinged  the  Dragon.* 
From  an  old  black-letter  ballad. 

Tarre  .on,  set  on,  incite ;  -IV.  i. 
117. 

Task  (Theobald's  correction  of 
"  tast"  of  the  Folios),  chal- 
lenge, command;  III.  i.  148. 

Taste,  to  act  the  part  of  taster, 
an  officer  whose  duty  it  was 
to  "  take  the  assay  "  of  each 
dish  before  it  passed  to  his 
master ;  V.  vi.  28. 

Temporize,  come  to  terms, 
compromise ;  V.  ii.  125. 

Territories,  (probably)  feudal 
dependencies ;  I.  i.  10. 

Then,  than;  IV.  ii.  42. 

Threats,  threatens;  III.  i.  347. 

Tickling,    cajoling,     flattering; 

II.  i.  573- 

Tides;    "  high   t.,"    high    days ; 

III.  i.  86. 

Time's  enemies,  the  enemies  of 
the  times,  i.e.  of  the  present 
state  of  affairs;  IV.  ii.  61. 

Tithe,  take  a  tithe;  III.  i.  154. 

To,  added  to;  I.  i.  144. 

Toasting-iron,  an  iron  used  for 
toasting  cheese ;  used  con- 
temptuously of  a  sword;  IV. 
iii.  99. 


126 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Glossary 


Toll,  take  toll,  raise  a  tax;  III. 

i.  154. 

Tongue,  alluding  to  the  ser- 
pent's tongue,  in  which  the 
venom  was  supposed  to  be 
secreted;  III.  i.  258. 

Took  it  on  his  death,  swore  by 
the  certainty  of  his  death ;  I. 
i.  no. 

Topful,  full  to  the  brim;  III. 
iv.  180. 

Tooth-pick;  I.  i.  190.  {Cp.  il- 
lustration.) 


From  a  XVIth  century  ■specimen. 

Tottering,  tattered ;  V.  v.  7. 

Touch'd  and  tried,  tested  by 
the  touchstone;  III.  i.  100. 

Towers,  rises  in  circles  in 
flight;  V.  ii.  149. 

Toys,  idle  fancies,  follies ;  I.  i. 
232. 

Trick,  characteristic  expres- 
sion; I.  i.  85. 

True;  "  my  t.  defence,"  i.e. 
"  the  defence  of  my  hon- 
esty "  ;  IV.  iii.  84. 


thought,  consideration,  II.  i. 
45 ;  rash,  II.  i.  191. 

Unconstant  =::mconsta.nt,  un- 
steady, fickle;  III.  i.  243. 

Under-hear,  bear,  endure;  III. 
i.  65.         . 

Underprop,  support ;  V.  ii.  99. 

Under-wrought,      undermined; 

II.  i.  95. 

Undeserved,  not  merited ;  IV.  i. 
108. 

Unhai/d,  (Theobald's  emenda- 
tion of  "  vn-heard,"  the  read- 
ing of  Folio  i)  beardless;  V. 
ii.  133. 

Unmatchable,  not  able  to  be 
equalled;  IV.  iii.  52. 

Unowed,  unowned,  left  without 
an  owner;  IV.  iii.  147. 

Unreverend,  disrespectful ;  I.  i. 
227. 

Unruly,  not  submitting  to  rule; 

III.  iv.  135. 

Unsured,  unstable,  insecure  ;  II. 
i.  471. 

Unthread  the  rude  eye,  retrace 
the  hazardous  road  (Theo- 
bald "untread"  ;  but  the  met- 
aphor is  evidently  derived 
from  threading  a  needle)  ;  V. 
iv.  II. 

Unurged,  unsolicited,  volun- 
tary; V.  ii.  10. 

Unvex'd,  not  molested,  not 
troubled;  II.  i.  253. 

Up,  used  with  intensive  force ; 

IV.  iii.  133. 

Upon,  on  the  side  of,  I.  i.  34; 
on  account  of,  II   i.  597. 


Unadvised,    without    due       Vex'd,  disquieted;  III.  i.  17. 

127 


Glossary 


THE  LIFE  AND 


Volquessen,  the  ancient  country 
of  the  Velocasses,  whose 
capital  was  Rouen;  II.  i.  527. 

Voluntaries,  volunteers;    II.   i. 

Waft — wafted,  borne  over  the 
sea;  II.  i.  73. 

Wait  upon,  attend ;  V.  vii.  98. 

Walks;  "  wildly  w.,"  i.e.  goes 
to  confusion;  IV.  ii.  128. 

Wall-eyed,  glaring-eyed 
("having  an  eye  in  which 
the  iris  is  descoloured  or 
wanting  in  colour")  ;  IV.  iii. 
49. 

Want,  lack;  IV.  i.  99. 

Wanton,  one  brought  up  in  lux- 
ury, an  effeminate  boy;  V.  i. 
70. 

Wantonness,  sportiveness ;  IV. 
i.  16. 

Warn'd,  summoned;  II.  i.  201. 

Watchful;  "the  w.  minutes  to 
the  hour,"  the  minutes  which 
are  watchful  to  the  hour ;  IV. 
i.  46. 

Way,  line  of  descent;  V.  vi.  11. 

Weal,  common-wealth.  IV.  ii. 
65 ;  welfare,  IV.  ii.  66. 

Wear  out,  let  come  to  an  end; 
III.  i.  no. 


Weather,  storm,  tempest;  IV. 
ii.  109. 

What!  an  ejaculation  of  impa- 
tience; I.  i.  245. 

What  though,  what  does  it 
matter !  I.  i.  169. 

What  on,  incite ;  III.  iv.  181. 

Whether  (Folios  "where"), 
monosyllabic;  I.  i.  75;  II.  i. 
167. 

Wilful-opposite,  refractory, 

stubborn ;  V.  ii.  124. 

Wind  up,  furl  together;  V.  ii. 

Winking,  closed;  II.  i.  215. 
With  — hy;  II.  i.  567;  HI.  iv. 

135- 
Worship,  honour,  dignity;  IV. 

iii.  72. 
Wrested,    taken    by    violence; 

IV.  iii.  154. 

Yet,  as  yet ;  II.  i.  361. 
Yon,  yonder ;  III.  iii.  60. 
You  =  for  you,  in  your  inter- 
ests; III.  iv.  146. 

Zeal,  ardour,  intense  en- 
deavour ;  II.  i.  565. 

Zounds;  a  corruption  of 
"  God's  wounds '"' ;  a  common 
oath ;  II.  i.  466. 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Critical  Notes. 

BY  ISRAEL  GOLLANCZ. 

I.  i.  20.  According  to  the  Cambridge  editors  the  line  must  prob- 
ably be  scanned  as  an  Alexandrine,  reading  the  first  '  controlmcnt' 
in  the  time  of  a  trisyllable  and  the  second  as  a  quadrisyllable. 
This  seems  very  doubtful ;  the  irregularity  of  the  line  is  not  re- 
markable ;  there  is  merely  an  extra  syllable  before  the  pause : — 

Control/ment  for/controhnent/fso  dns/wer  France./ 

I.  i.  28.  'sullen  presage  of  your  ozvn  decay ' ;  there  is  perhaps  an 
allusion  here  to  the  dismal  passing-bell,  as  Steevens  suggested; 
according  to  Delius,  the  trumpet  of  doom  is  alluded  to.  There  is, 
however,  no  difficulty  in  the  thought  as  it  stands,  without  these 
references  to  a  secondary  idea. 

I.  i.  49.  'expedition's' ;  first  Folio,  expeditious;  an  obvious  mis- 
print. 

I.  i.  54.  '  Coeur-de-lion  ' ;  '  Cordelion  '  in  the  Folios  and  old  play; 
perhaps  the  spelling  should  be  kept  as  the  popular  form  of  the 
name. 

'knighted  in  the  Held';  in  'The  Troublesome  Raigne'  he  is 
knighted  at  the  siege  of  Aeon  or  Acre,  by  the  title  of  Sir  Robert 
Fauconbridge  of  Montbery. 

I.  i.  85.  'trick';  it  has  been  suggested  that  'trick'  is  used  here 
in  the  heraldic  sense  of  '  copy ' ;  it  would  seem,  however,  to  be 
used  in  a  less  definite  sense. 

I.  i.  139.  'sir  Robert's  his,'  so  the  Folios;  Theobald  proposed 
'sir  Robert  his'  regarding  'his'  as  the  old  genitive  form; 
Vaughan,  'just  sir  Robert's  shape' ;  Schmidt  takes  the  ''s  his'  as 
a  reduplicative  possessive.  Surely  '  his '  is  used  substantively  with 
that  rollicking  effect  which  is  so  characteristic  of  Faulconbridge. 
There  is  no  need  to  explain  the  phrase  as  equivalent  to  '  his  shape, 
which  is  also  his  father  Sir  Robert's  ' ;  'sir  Robert's  his '  = '  sir 
Robert's  shape,'  'his'  emphasizing  substantively  the  previous  pro- 
nominal use  of  the  word. 

129 


Notes 


THE  LIFE  AND 


From  an  engraving  by  Fairholt. 


I.  i.  143.  '  Look,  where  three- 
farthings  goes'  ;  three-farthingpieces 
of  silver  were  coined  in  1561  (dis- 
continued in  1582)  ;  they  were  very 
thin,  and  were  distinguished  from 
the  silver  pence  by  an  impression  of 
the  queen's  profile,  with  a  rose  be- 
hind her  ear.  {Cp.  illustration.) 
1.  i.  147.  'I  zvould  not' ;  Folio  i  reads  'It  would  not'  probably 
a  misprint,  though  Delius  makes  'it'  refer  to  'His  face.' 

I.  i.  234-5.  '  ^^^  ^^^^  p(^^'i  upon  Good-Friday ' ;  evidently  a  popu- 
lar proverb,  cp.  Heywood's  Dialogue  upon  Proverbs : — 

'He  may  his  part  on  Good  Friday  eat,  ^ 

And  fast  never  the  zuurs,  for  ought  he  shall  geat'  {i.e.  get). 

I.  i.  244.  'Knight,  knight,  good  mother,  Basilisco-like' ;  an  al- 
lusion to  the  old  play  called  '  SoUnian  and  Perseda'  (printed  1599, 
written  probably  some  ten  years  before) ;  Piston  the  buffoon,  rep- 
resenting the  old  Vice  of  the  Morality  Plays,  jumps  on  the  back  of 
Basilisco,  the  bragging  coward,  and  makes  him  take  oath  on  his 
dagger  :— 

Bas.  'I,    the    aforesaid   Basilisco, — knight,    good   fellow,    knight, 

knight, — 
PiST.  'Knave,  good  fellow,  knave,  knave.' 

{Cp.  Dodsley's  Old  Plays,  ed.  Hazlitt,  Vol.  v.  271-2.) 

II.  i.  2.  'that  great  forerunner  of  thy  blood';  Shakespeare,  by 
some  oversight,  here  makes  Arthur  directly  descended  from 
Richard. 

11,  i.  5.  '  by  this  brave  duke,'  so  the  old  play.  Richard  was, 
however,  slain  by  an  arrow  at  the  siege  of  Chaluz,  some  years 
after  the  Duke's  death. 

II,  i.  64.  'her  niece,  the  Lady  Blanch  of  Spain,'  i.e.  her  grand- 
daughter; Blanch  was  the  daughter  of  John's  sister  Eleanor  and 
Alphonso  VIII. ,  King  of  Castile. 

II.  i  65.  '  of  the  king's  deceased,'  i.e.  '  of  the  deceased  king ' ; 
Folios  2,  3,  4,  'king';  but  Folio  i,  '  kings'  ^:^'  king's'  is  idiomati- 
cally correct. 

II.  i.  103,  'huge';  Rowe  read  'large,'  doubtless  a  misprint  for 
*"  huge '  restored  by  Capell. 

II.  i.  113.  'breast';  Folio  i,  'beast.' 


130 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Notes 

II.  i.  119,  ^Excuse;  it  is,'  etc.;  Malone's  correction  of  the  Fo- 
lios, '  Excuse  it  is ' ;  Rowe  (ed.  2)  '  Excuse  it,  'tis.' 

II.  i.  137.  ''  of  whom  the  proverb  goes,'  i.e.  '  Mortuo  leoni  et 
lepores  insultant';  cp.  Kyd's  Spanish  Tragedy,  'Hares  may  pull 
dead  lions  by  the  beard.' 

II.  i.  144.  'Great  Alcidcs'  shozvs  upon  an  ass';  alluding  to  the 
skin  of  the  Nemean  lion  won  by  Hercules.  The  Folios  read 
'  shooes ' ;  the  reading  of  the  text  was  first  proposed  by  Theobald. 

II.  i.  149.  'King  Philip,'  etc.;  the  line  is  printed  in  the  Folios 
as  part  of  Austria's  speech,  with  '  King  Lewis '  instead  of  '  King 
Philip';  the  error  was  first  corrected  by  Theobald. 

II.  i.  152.  'Anjou,'  Theobald's  correction  of  'Angicrs'  of  the 
Folios. 

II.  i.  156.  ' Bretagne' ;  Folios  i,  2,  ' Britaine' ;  Folio  3,  'Brit- 
ain ' ;  Folio  4,  '  Brittain.' 

II.  i.  159.  11.  159  to  197  considered  as  spurious  by  Pope. 

II.  i.  160,  161.  '  it,'  old  form  of  possessive,  so  Folios  2,  3,  4 ; 
Folio  I,'  yt  .  .  .it';  Johnson,  'if  .  .  .it''',  Capell,  'ifs  .  .  . 
it's.'  In  the  Lancashire  dialect  '  hit '  is  still  common  form  of  the 
possessive,  an  archaism  used  here  in  imitation  of  the  language  of 
the  nursery. 

II.  i.  167.  'whether,'  monosyllabic;  Folios  i,  2,  3,  'zvhere'; 
Folio  4,  '  whe're/ 

II.  i.  177.  '  this  is  thy  eld'st ' ;  Capell's  emendation  of  the  Folios, 
'  this  is  thy  eldest ' ;  Fleay  proposed  '  this'  thy  eld'st ' ;  Ritson, '  thy 
eld'st,'  omitting  '  this  is.' 

II.  i.  180.  '  the  canon  of  the  law,'  cp.  Exodus  xx.  5. 

II.  i.  187.  'And  zvith  her  plague;  her  sin  his  injury,'  etc.;  the 
Foliosi  'And  with  her  plague  her  sin:  his  injury,'  etc.  The  punc- 
tuation adopted  was  first  proposed  by  Mr.  Roby,  who  explains  the 
passage  thus : — "  God  hath  made  her  sin  and  herself  to  be  a 
plague  to  this  distant  child,  who  is  punished  for  her  and  with  the 
punishment  belonging  to  her :  God  has  made  her  sin  to  be  an  in- 
jury to  Arthur,  and  her  injurious  deeds  to  be  the  executioner  to 
punish  her  sin :  all  which  (viz.,  her  first  sin  and  her  now  injurious 
deeds)  are  punished  in  the  person  of  this  child." 

II.  i.  196.  '  aim';  Folio  i,  '  ayme  ' ;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  '  ay  me ' ;  Rov/e 
conjectured  'amen';  Moberley,  'hem';  Jackson,  'sliame';  John- 
son, '  j'aime.' 

II.  i.  215.  'Confronts  your';  Capell's  emendation;  Folios  i,  2, 

131 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

'Comfort  yours';  Folios  3,  4,  'Comfort  your';  Rowe  suggested, 
'  Confront  your' ;  Collier,  '  Come  'fore  your' 

11.  i.  217.  'waist';  Folios  i,  2,  3,  'waste';  Folio  4,  '  waistc  ' ; 
'  doth ' ;  the  singular  by  attraction  to  the  preceding  word ;  Rowe, 

'do: 

II.  i.  234.  'Crave,'  so  Pope;  Folios  read  '  Craues.' 

II.  i.  259.  ' roundure,'  so  Capell ;  Folios  read  'rounder' ;  Singer, 
'  rondure: 

II.  i.  262.  'rude';  Williams  conjectured  '  zvide: 

II.  i.  323.  '  Dyed ' ;  Folios  i,  2,  3,  '  Dide  ' ;  Folio  4,  '  dy'd:  Pope 
suggested  'Stain  d ' ;  Vaughan,  '  Dipp'd: 

II.  i.  325.  In  the  Folios  '  the  first  citizen  '  is  throughout  named 
*  Hubert,'  in  all  probability  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  actor  of  the 
part  of  Hubert  also  took  this  minor  character  of  the  play. 

II.  i.  335.  'run'  so  Folios  2,  3,  4;  Folio  i,  'rome';  Malone 
reads,  '  roam' ;  Nicholson  conjectured  'foam: 

II.  i.  353.  'fangs:  Steevens'  spelling  for  '  phangs'  of  the  Folios. 

II.  i.  358.  'equal  patents' ;  Collier  reads  'equal  potent';  Delius, 
'  equal-potents' ;  Dyce,  'equal-potent: 

'aery-kindled;  so  Folios  2,  3,  4;  Folio  i,  '  iierie  kindled';  Pope, 
'  iiery-kindled' ;  Collier  (ed.  2),  '  Hre-ykindled' ;  Lettsom  conjec- 
tures '  iire-enkindled: 

II.  i.  371.  ' King'd  of  our  fears';  the  Folios,  'Kings  of  our 
fear ' ;  the  excellent  emendation  adopted  in  the  text  was  first  pro- 
posed by  Tyrwhitt. 

II.  i.  378.  '  the  mutines  of  Jerusalem:  i.e.  the  mutineers  of 
Jerusalem,  evidently  alluding  to  John  of  Giscala  and  Simon  bar 
Gioras,  the  leaders  of  the  opposing  factions,  who  combined  in 
order  to  resist  the  Roman  attack.  Shakespeare  probably  .derived 
his  knowledge  from  Peter  Morwyng's  translation  (1558)  of  the 
spurious  Josephus,  the  '  Joseppon,'  as  it  is  called:  Josephus  was 
first  Englished  in  1602. 

II.  i.  425.  'Dauphin:  so  Rowe;  Folios,  'Dolphin'   (passim). 

II.  i.  584.  'aid';  Collier  (ed.  2,  Mason's  conjecture),  'aim: 

III.  i.  16-17.  'thou  didst  but  jest,  With  my  vex'd  spirits,  etc.; 
Rowe's  emendation  of  the  punctuation  of  the  Folios,  'jest  .  .  . 
spirits: 

III.  i.  148.  '  task:  Theobald's  correction  of  the  Folios ;  Folios 
I,  2,  '  tast' ;  Folios  3,  4,  '  taste  ' ;  Rowe  conjectured  '  tax: 

III.  i.  209.  '  new  untrimmed  bride ' ;  so  the  Folios ;  Theobald, 
'new  and  trimmed/  or  'new  untamed,'  'new  betrimmed';  Dyce, 

132 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Notes 


'  ne7XJ  up  trimmed/  Staunton  was  probably  right  when  he  sug- 
gested that  '  untrimmed'  is  descriptive  of  the  bride  v/ith  her  hair 
hanging  loose. 


III.  i. 

cased/ 

III.  i. 


259.  '  chafed  lion  ' ;  Theobald's  correction  of  the  Folios, 


280-4.  Iri  the  First  Folio  the  reading  is : — 
'But  thou  hast  sworn  against  religion; 
By  what  thou  swear'st  against  the  thing  thou  swear'st, 
And  mak'st  an  oath  the  surety  for  thy  truth, 
Against  an  oath  the  truth,  thou  art  unsure 
To  szvcar,  szveares  only  not  to  be  forsworn.' 
In  line  281  a  plausible  emendation  is  ' swar^st'  (—' swo/st')  for 
the  .second  '  szvear'st/     '  By  what '  =  '  in   so 
far  as  ' ;  lines  281,  282  are  evidently  parallel  in 
sense;    a    slight    obscurity    may    perhaps    be 
cleared  away  by  taking  the  first  'truth'   as 
used    with    a    suggestion    of    the    secondary 
meaning  '  troth ' :    lines  283,  284  are  consid- 
ered the  crux  of  the  passage,  but  possibly  all 
difficulty  is  removed  by  placing  a  semi-colon 
after  '  unsure,'  and  rendering  *  to  swear  '  with 
the  force  of  '  if  a  man  swear.' 

III.  ii.  4.  'Philip  ' ;  Theobald,  '  Richard ' ; 
the  error  was  probably  Shakespeare's; 
'Philip'  was  'Sir  Richard.' 

III.  iii.  12.  'Bell,  hook  and  candle.'  (Cp. 
illustration.) 

III.   iii.  26.  '  time,'   Pope's   emendation   for 

'  /""^  '  of  the  Folios.  .  B^U^  book  and  candle.' 

III.  HI.  39.  'Sound  on  into  the  drowsy  ear  From  the  stone-coffin  lid 

of    night':    the    Folios,    'race';    Dyce    and     of. a  Xlllth  century 

'  '^         ;  ,     T^    u      i      i  J.         }     J.  '-ru  priest,  in   the  Abbey 

Staunton,     ear   ;  Bulloch,     face,    etc.      Iheo-      church,  Shrewsbury. 

bald  suggested  '  sound  one  unto,'  as  plausible 

an  emendation  as  so  many  of  his  excellent  readings. 

III.  iii.  52.  '  brooded  watchful  day ' ;  Pope's  '  hroad-ey'd,'  Mit- 
ford's  '  broad  and,'  and  various  emendations  have  been  proposed, 
but  '  brooded  '  =  '  having  a  brood  to  watch  over,'  hence  '  brooding  ' 
==  '  sitting  on  brood.' 

III.  iii.  72.  'attend  on  you.'  so  Folios  i,  2;  Folios  3,  4,  'to 
attend ' ;  Pope  reads  '  t'  attend.' 

III.  iv.  2.  '  convicted/  i.e.  '  overcome ' ;  there  is  perhaps  a  refer- 


^33 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

ence  here  to  the  Spanish  Armada.  Pope  proposed  'collected' ; 
other  suggestions  have  been  '  convented/  '  connected',  ''  combined,' 
'  convexed,'  etc. 

III.  iv.  6.  ^  Is  not  Angiers  lostf  etc.  Arthur  was  made  prisoner 
at  the  capture  of  Mirabeau  in  1202.  Angiers  was  captured  by 
John  four  years  later. 

III.  iv.  44.  'not  holy,'  so  Folio  4;  Folios  1,  2,  3,  'holy';  Delius 
and  Staunton  (Steevens'  conjecture)  'unholy.' 

III.  iv.  64.  'friends'  Rowe's  emendation  of  ' -fiends'  of  the 
Folios. 

III.  iv.  98.  '  Then  have  I  reason  to  he  fond  of  grief,'  Rowe's 
reading;  Folios  i,  2,  3  read  '  Then,  have  I  reason  to  be  fond  of 
grief? ' ;  Folio  4,  '  Then    .    .    .    grief? ' 

III.  iv.  no.  'world's  taste,'  Pope's  emendation  of  the  Folios, 
'words  taste' ;  Jackson's  conjecture,  '  zvord,  state.' 

III.  iv.  182.  '  strong  actions,'  so  Folios  2,  3,  4.  Folio  i  mis- 
prints 'strange  actions.' 

IV.  i.  92.  'mote,'  Steevens'  emendation  for  'moth'  of  the  Folios, 
a  frequent  spelling  of  the  word. 

IV.  ii.  42.  'then  lesser  is  my  fear,'  so  Folio  i;  '  then'  a  common 
spelling  of  '  than  '  in  Elizabethan  English ;  Folios  2,  3,  4,  '  then  less 
is  my  fear';  Pope,  'the  lesser  is  my  fear.' 

IV.  ii.  50.  'myself  and  //z^w '=  (perhaps)  'myself  and  them- 
selves ' ;  hence  the  ungrammatical  '  them.' 

IV.  ii.  65.  '  than  whereupon  our  weal'  etc.  The  meaning  of  the 
passage  seems  to  be,  '  we  ask  for  his  liberty  only  in  so  far  as  the 
commonwealth  (i.^., '  our  weal,  on  you  depending')  counts  it  your 
welfare,'  etc. 

IV.  ii.  117.  'care';  it  is  impossible  to  determine  whether  the 
First  Folio  reads  '  eare '  or  '  care  ' ;  the  other  Folios  '  care!  There 
is  considerable  doubt  as  to  whether  the  first  letter  is  Roman  or 
Italic,  and  taking  all  the  evidence  into  account  it  seems  possible 
that  'care'  was  corrected  to  'eare'  in  some  copies  of  the  First 
Folio. 

IV.  ii.  120.  ' -first  of  April' ;  according  to  history,  Eleanor  died 
in  1204  in  the  month  of  July. 

IV.  ii.  123.  '  Three  days  before ' ;  Constance  died  in  reality  three 
years,  and  not  three  days  before,  in  August,  1201. 

IV.  ii.  147.  'a  prophet.'  i.e.  Peter  of  Pomfret  (Pontefract). 

IV.  ii.  194.  '  his  iron  did  on  the  anvil  cool.'     The  annexed  curi- 

134 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Notes 


ous  illustration  of  smiths  at 
work  is  taken  from  an  illumi- 
nated MS.  of  the  XlVth  cen- 
tury. 

IV.  iii.  II.  '  him' =  the  Dau- 
phin. 

V.  i.  8.  'counties' ;  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  determine  whether 
'  counties' =  (i.)  'counts/  i.e. 
'the  nobility,'  or  (ii.)  'the  di- 
visions of  the  country  ' ;  prob- 
ably the  former, 

V.  ii.  I.  '  this,'  i.e.  *  this  com- 
pact with  the  English  Lords.' 

V.  ii.  27.  'step  after  a  stran- 
ger,   march,'     so    the     Folios ; 
Theobald    '  stranger    march/    but    the    original    reading    seems 
preferable. 

V.  ii.  36.  'grapple,'  Pope's  emendation  of  'cripple'  of  the  Folios; 
Steevens  conjectured  '  grip  pie,'  Gould  'couple.' 

V.  ii.  59.  'Full  of  zvarm  blood,'  Heath's  conjecture  for  'Full 
warm  of  blood'  of  the  Folios. 

V.  ii.  64.  'an  angel  spake';  'angel'  used  probably  equivocally 
with  a  play  upon  '  angel '  the  gold  coin,  the  quibble  being  sug- 
gested by  the  previous  '  purse/  '  nobles.' 


Mediajval  Smiths  (see  note  above \ 


From  a  specimen  of  the  time  of  Elizabeth. 

V.  ii.  105.   (See  next  page). 

V.  ii.  133.  '  unhair'd,'  Theobald's  correction  of  Folios;  Folio  i, 


135 


Notes 


THE  LIFE  AND 


'unheard';  Folios  2,  3,  4,  'unheard';  Keightly  proposed  'un- 
heard.' 

V.  iii.  8.  '  Swinstead,'  so  in  '  The  Troublesome  Raigne ' ;  '  Swin- 
stead '  =  Swineshead,  near  Spalding,  in  Lincolnshire. 

V.  iv.  15.  ' He'  i.e.  the  Dauphin ;  perhaps  '  lords '  in  the  pre- 
vious line  is  an  error  for  '  lord.' 

V.  iv.  24-5.  '  even  as  a  form  of  wax  Resolveth  from  his  figure 
'gainst  the  fire'  alluding  to  the  images  of  wax  used  in  witch- 
craft ;  as  the  figure  melted  before  the  fire,  so  the  person  it  repre- 
sented dwindled  away. 

V.  iv.  60.  'Right  in  thine  eye';  it  has  been  suggested  that 
'  right'  is  a  misprint  for  '  riot' ;  'plight',  '  fight'  '  fright,'  etc.,  have 
been  proposed :  there  is  no  reason  at  all  for  emending  the  word. 

V.  vi.  12.  '  eyeless  night,'  Theobald's  emendation  of  the  Folios, 
'  endless.' 

V.  vii.  16.  'Leaves  them  invisible,  and  his  siege';  so  Folio  i, 
the  other  Folios,  '  and  her  siege ' ;  Pope,  '  leaves  them;  invisible  his 
siege';  Hanmer,  'leaves  them  insensible;  his  siege';  Steevens, 
'  invincible  ' ;  etc. 

V.  vii.  21.  '  cygnet ' ;  Rowe's  correction  of  '  Symet '  of  the  Folios. 


Have  I  fiot  here  the  best  cards  for  the  game '  (V.  ii.  10$). 

from  an  illuminated  MS.  of  the  early  XVth  century.    Perhaps  the  most  ancient 

representation  of  the  kind  known. 


136 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Explanatory  Notes. 


The  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  edition  have  been  specially  selected  and 
adapted,  with  emendations  after  the  latest  and  best  authorities,  from  the 
most  eminent  Shakespearian  scholars  and  commentators,  including  Johnson, 
Malone,  Steevens,  Singer,  Dyce,  Hudson,  White,  Furness,  Dowden,  and 
others.  This  method,  here  introduced  for  the  first  time,  provides  the  best 
annotation  of  Shakespeare  ever  embraced  in  a  single  edition. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

15.  Thy  nephew,  etc. : — As  Richard  I.  died  without  lawful  issue, 
the  crown  in  the  strict  order  of  succession  would  have  fallen  to 
his  nephew  Arthur,  Duke  of  Brittany,  then  in  his  twelfth  year. 
But  the  crown  was  then  partly  elective,  the  nation  choosing  from 
the  members  of  the  royal  family  the  one  they  thought  fittest  for 
the  office.  Arthur  held  the  duchy  of  Brittany  in  right  of  his 
father,  Geffrey  Plantagenet,  an  elder  brother  of  John.  Anjou, 
Touraine,  and  Maine,  the  ancient  patrimony  of  the  house  of  An- 
jou, were  his  by  hereditary  right.  As  Duke  of  Brittany  Arthur 
was  a  vassal  of  Philip  Augustus,  King  of  France ;  and  Constance 
engaged  to  Philip  that  her  son  should  do  him  homage  also  for 
Normandy,  Maine,  Anjou,  Touraine,  and  Poictou,  on  condition 
that  Philip  should  support  his  claim  to  the  English  crown.  Eng- 
land having  declared  for  John,  the  play  opens  with  Philip's  inter- 
ference in  behalf  of  Arthur. 

26.  The  thunder  of  my  cannon  : — The  Poet  here  antedates  the 
use  of  gunpowder  by  over  a  hundred  years.  So  again,  in  II.  i. 
227,  he  speaks  of  bullets  wrapp'd  in  tire.  A  similar  anachronism 
occurs  in  Macbeth,  I.  ii.  37:  "Cannons  overcharged  with  double 
cracks."  John's  reign  began  in  1199,  and  cannon  are  said  to  have 
been  first  used  at  the  battle  of  Cressy  in  1346.  In  all  such  cases 
Shakespeare  simply  aimed  to  speak  the  language  that  was  most 

137 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

intelligible  to  his  audience,  rendering  the  ancient  engines  of  war 
by  their  modern  equivalents.  Of  course  he  has  been  found  fault 
with  by  those  who  in  a  drama  prefer  chronological  accuracy  to 
dramatic  effect. 

SI  et  seq.  Elinor's  hostility  to  Constance  is  thus  accounted  for 
by  Holinshed :  "  Surely  Queen  Elinor,  the  king's  mother,  was  sore 
against  her  nephew  Arthur,  rather  moved  thereto  by  envy  con- 
ceived against  his  mother,  than  upon  any  just  occasion  given  in 
the  behalf  of  the  child ;  for  that  she  saw  if  he  were  king  how  his 
mother  Constance  would  look  to  bear  most  rule  within  the  realm 
of  England,  till  her  son  should  come  to  lawful  age  to  govern  of 
himself." 

49.  [Etiter  .  .  .  bastard  brother.]  We  have  already  seen  that 
Richard  I.  died  without  lawful  issue.  Holinshed,  speaking  of  the 
first  year  of  John's  reign,  says:  "The  same  year  also,  Philip, 
bastard  son  to  King  Richard,  to  whom  his  father  had  given  the 
castle  and  honour  of  Coynack,  killed  the  Viscount  of  Lymoges, 
in  revenge  of  his  father's  death,  who  was  slain  in  besieging  the 
castle  of  Chains  Cheverell."  The  old  play  furnished  Shakespeare 
a  slight  hint  towards  the  character : — 

"  Next  them  a  bastard  of  the  king's  deceas'd, 
A  hardie  wild-head,  rough  and  venturous." 

88.  the  large  composition  of  this  man? — "This  expression," 
says  Clarke,  "  finely  brings  to  the  eye  those  magnificent  propor- 
tions of  manly  strength  that  characterized  Richard  I.,  and  which 
helped  to  make  him  the  heroic  ideal  of  English  hearts." 

113-117.  Full  fourteen,  etc.: — Wilkes  says:  "Lord  Campbell, 
in  his  review  of  the  play  of  King  John,  expresses  himself  some- 
what disappointed  that  he  has  not  found  more,  of  what  he  calls 
legalisms  in  Shakespeare's  dramas,  founded  upon  English  history. 
He  accounts  for  this  paucity  of  legal  reference,  however,  by  the 
fact  that  'our  great  dramatist,'  has  in  these  histories  'worked 
upon  the  foundations  already  laid  by  other  men,  who  had  no  tech- 
nical knowledge.'  '  Yet,'  he  continues,  '  we  find  in  several  of  the 
"Histories"  Shakespeare's  fondness  for  law  terms;  and  it  is  still 
remarkable,  that,  whenever  he  indulges  this  propensity,  he  uni- 
formly lays  down  good  law.'  His  lordship  gives  as  a  strong  illus- 
tration of  this  fact,  the  decision  by  King  John,  between  Hubert 
and  Philip  Faulconbridge  upon  the  question  of  bastardy  pleaded 
by  the  younger  brother,  against  Philip,  who,  however,  like  Shake- 

138 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Notes 

speare's  eldest  daughter,  Susanna,  had  made  his  appearance  after 
the  nuptials  of  parents,  '  Full  fourteen  weeks  before  the  course  of 
time.'  The  King  legally  decides  that  Philip  is  legitimate,  and  is 
therefore  his  father's  lawful  heir,  because  his  '  father's  wife  did 
after  wedlock  bear  him.'  So  far,  however,  from  receiving  this 
as  a  substantial  evidence  of  Shakespeare's  law  learning,  it  seems 
to  me  to  evince  no  more  legal  knowledge  than  ought  to  be  ex- 
pected from  any  well-educated  youth  of  twenty-one." 

137.  Lord  of  thy  presence,  etc. : — That  is,  the  possessor  of  thy 
own  dignified  and  manly  person,  inherited  from  thy  great  progen- 
itor. Perhaps  the  idea  is  also  implied  of  mastery  of  himself,  of 
his  own  identity.  In  Sir  Heijry  Wotton's  beautiful  poem  The 
Happy  Man,  we  have  expressions  resembling  these : — 

"  Lord  of  himself,  though  not  of  lands, 
And  having  nothing,  yet  hath  all." 

162.  Plantagenet  was  not  the  original  name  of  the  house  of 
Anjou,  but  a  nickname  bestowed  upon  a  member  of  the  family, 
from  his  wearing  a  stalk  of  the  broom-plant  (planta  genista)  in 
his  bonnet. 

189,  190.  your  traveller,  etc.: — It  is  said  in  All's  Well  that  Ends 
Well,  II.  v.  28,  29,  that  "  A  good  traveller  is  something  at  the  lat- 
ter end  of  a  dinner."  In  that  age  of  newly  excited  curiosity,  one 
of  the  entertainments  at  great  tables  seems  to  have  been  the  dis- 
course of  a  traveller.  To  use  a  toothpick  seems  to  have  been  one 
of  the  characteristics  of  a  travelled  man  who  affected  foreign 
fashions.  At  my  ivorship's  mess  means  at  that  part  of  the  table 
where  I,  as  a  knight,  shall  be  placed.  Your  ivorship  was  the  regu- 
lar address  to  a  knight  or  esquire,  in  Shakespeare's  time,  as  your 
honour  was  to  a  lord. 

207,  208.  For  he  is,  etc. : — That  is,  he  is  accounted  but  a  mean 
man,  in  the  present  age,  who  does  not  show,  by  his  dress,  deport- 
ment, and  talk,  that  he  has  travelled  and  made  observations  in 
foreign  countries. 

231.  Good  leave,  good  Philip : — "  For  an  instance  of  Shake- 
speare's power  in  minimis,"  observes  Coleridge,  "  I  generally 
quote  James  Gurney's  character  in  King  John.  How  individual 
and  comical  he  is  with  the  four  words  allowed  to  his  dramatic 
life !  "  "  They  certainly  suffice  to  show  us,"  adds  Clarke,  "  the 
free-and-easy  style  of  the  confidential  servitor;  one  intrusted  with 
the  family  secrets  of  this  country  household;  one  accustomed  to 

130 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

treat  the  eldest  son,  bat  not  the  heir,  with  a  coolly  easy  familiarity 
tolerated  by  the  good-humoured  young  man,  and  only  lightly 
waved  aside  by  the  new-made  knight." 

268.  He  that  perforce,  etc. : — Rastall's  Chronicle  gives  a  good 
explanation  of  this:  "It  is  sayd  that  a  lyon  was  put  to  Kynge 
Richarde,  beynge  in  prison,  to  have  devoured  him ;  and,  when  the 
lyon  was  gapynge,  he  put  his  arm  in  his  mouthe,  and  pulled  the 
lyon  by  the  harte  so  hard,  that  he  slew  the  lyon;  and  therefore 
some  say  he  is  called  Rycharde  Cure  de  Lyon :  but  some  say  he  is 
called  Cure  de  Lyon,  because  of  his  boldnesse  and  hardy  stomake." 
See  Percy's  Reliques  for  a  metrical  form  of  the  story. 

ACT  SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

12.  God  shall  forgive  you,  etc. : — Clarke  thinks  that  in  making 
Arthur  of  younger  age  at  this  period  than  historical  truth  war- 
rants, "  Shakespeare  well  knew  that  the  truth  of  tragic  story  would 
be  more  perfectly  fulfilled  by  having  a  child  the  subject  of  injury 
here.  The  wa}^,"  continues  Clarke,  "  in  which  he  has  drawn  the 
innocent  boy  throughout  is  intensely  pathetic — a  sweet  and  gentle 
nature  hurled  to  and  fro  like  a  flower  amid  tempests ;  bruised, 
wounded,  and  finally  crushed  by  the  stormy  passions  and  ruthless 
ambitions  of  the  merciless  natures  around  him.  That  the  drama- 
tist has  nowise  violated  natural  and  characteristic  truth,  by  ma- 
king the  little  prince  speak  with  a  grace  and  propriety  beyond 
those  generally  belonging  to  children  of  his  age,  we  have  confirm- 
atory evidence  in  a  record  made  by  Froissart  in  his  Chronicles, 
where  he  describes  the  conduct  of  the  Princess  of  France,  then  '  a 
yonge  childe  of  eyght  yere  of  age.'  " 

19, 20.  Wilkes  tells  us  that  a  "  legal  illustration  which  Lord 
Campbell  gives  is  found  within  the  lines  spoken  by  the  Duke  of 
Austria,  upon  gK'ing  his  pledge  to  support  the  title  of  Prince 
Arthur  against  King  John : — 

'  Upon  thy  cheek  I  lay  this  zealous  kiss. 
As  seal  to  tins  indenture  of  my  love.' 

Lord  Campbell  regards  this  as  a  purely  legal  metaphor,  which 
might   come  naturally  from  an   attorney's   clerk,   who  had  often 

140 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Notes 

been  an  attesting  witness  to  the  execution  of  deeds.  I  quite 
agree,"  says  Wilkes,  "  with  his  lordship  in  this  view,  but  the  ex- 
pression might  just  as  naturally  have  come  from  any  intelligent 
merchant  or  poetaster  of  the  time." 

S2.  O,  take  his  mother's  thanks: — "My  idea  of  Constance," 
says  Mrs.  Siddons,  "  is  that  of  a  lofty  and  proud  spirit,  associated 
with  the  most  exquisite  feelings  of  maternal  tenderness,  which  is, 
in  truth,  the  predominant  feature  of  this  interesting  personage. 
The  sentiments  which  she  expresses,  in  the  dialogue  between  her- 
self, the  King  of  France,  and  the  Duke  of  Austria,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  second  Act  of  this  tragedy,  very  strongly  evince 
the  amiable  traits  of  a  humane  disposition  and  of  a  grateful  heart." 

50,51.^  wonder,  lady!  etc.: — "The  wonder,"  according  to 
Johnson,  "  is  only  that  Chatillon  happened  to  arrive  at  the  moment 
when  Constance  mentioned  him ;  which  the  French  king,  accord- 
ing to  a  superstition  which  prevails  more  or  less  in  every  mind 
agitated  by  great  affairs,  turns  into  a  miraculous  interposition,  or 
omen  of  good." 

131.  if  thou  wert  his  mother: — Constance  alludes  to  Elinor's 
infidelity  to  her  husband,  Louis  VII.,  when  they  were  in  the  Holy 
Land ;  on  account  of  which  he  divorced  her.  She  was  afterwards 
(1151)  married  to  King  Henry  II, 

134.  Hear  the  crier: — Alluding  to  the  usual  proclamation  for 
silence  made  by  criers  in  the  courts  of  justice.  The  Bastard  is 
sarcastic  and  badgers  Austria. 

136.  An  a'  may  catch  your  hide,  etc. : — The  lion's  skin  was  part 
of  the  spoil  which  the  old  play  represented  the  Archduke  of 
Austria  as  having  taken  from  Richard  I.  Of  course  the  Arch- 
duke wore  it  in  honour  of  his  exploit  in  killing  Richard. 

289.  Sits  on  his  horse  back  at  mine  hostess'  door: — It  will, 
of  course,  be  understood  that  pictures  of  St.  George  armed 
and  mounted,  as  when  he  overthrew  the  Dragon,  were  used  as 
innkeepers'  signs.  Nothing  could  be  more  spiritedly  characteris- 
tic of  the  speaker  than  his  thus  running  his  favourite  warcry  into 
a  humorous  allusion.  Knight  points  out  a  siihilar  passage  in 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  where  Callum  Beg  compares  Waverley  to  "  the 
bra'  Highlander  tat's  painted  on  the  board  afore  the  mickle 
change-house  they  ca'  Luckie  Middlemass's." 

321-323.  It  was  anciently  the  practice  of  the  chase  for  the 
huntsmen  to  stain  their  hands  with  the  blood  of  the  deer  as  a 

141 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

trophy.      Shakespeare    alludes   to    the   practice    again    in   Julius 
CcesaVj  III.  i.  204-206: — 

"  Here  wast  thou  bay'd,  brave  hart ; 
Here  didst  thou  fall,  and  here  thy  hunters  stand, 
Sign'd  in  thy  spoil  and  crimson'd  in  thy  lethe." 

423,424.  TJiat  daughter  there,  etc.: — The  Lady  Blanch  was 
daughter  to  Alphonso  IX.,  king  of  Castile,  and  niece  to  King 
John  by  his  sister  Eleanor. 

533-  young  princes,  close  your  hands: — This  marriage  treaty 
is  thus  narrated  by  Holinshed :  "  So  King  John  returned  from 
York,  and  sailed  again  into  Normandy,  because  the  variance  still 
depended  between  him  and  the  King  of  France.  Finally,  upon 
the  Ascension-day  in  this  second  year  of  his  reign,  they  came 
eftsoons  to  a  communication  betwixt  the  towns  of  Vernon  and 
Lisle  Dandelie.  where  they  concluded  an  agreement,  with  mar- 
riage to  be  had  betwixt  Lewis,  the  son  of  King  Philip,  and  the 
lady  Blanch,  daughter  to  Alfonso  King  of  Castile,  the  eighth  of 
that  name,  and  niece  to  King  John  by  his  sister  Eleanor."  It  was 
further  stipulated  that  "  the  foresaid  Blanch  should  be  conveyed 
into  France  to  her  husband,  with  all  speed  " ;  which  infers  that 
she  was  not  personally  consenting  to  the  treaty. 

ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  1. 

[Enter  Constance.]  Mrs.  Siddons  has  left  us  a  fine  commen- 
tary on  the  character  of  Constance,  of  which  the  following  pas- 
sages may  fitly  be  cited  here :  "  The  ideas  one  naturally  adopts 
of  her  qualities  and  appearance  are,  that  she  is  noble  in  mind,  and 
commanding  in  person  and  demeanour;  that  her  countenance  was 
capable  of  all  the  varieties  of  grand  and  tender  expression,  often 
agonized,  though  never  distorted  by  the  vehemence  of  her  agita- 
tions. Her  voice,  too,  must  have  been  '  propertied  like  the  tuned 
spheres,'  obedient  to  all  the  softest  inflections  of  maternal  love, 
to  all  the  pathos  of  the  most  exquisite  sensibility,  to  the  sudden 
burst  of  heartrending  sorrow,  and  to  the  terrifying  imprecations 
of  indignant  majesty,  when  writhing  under  the  miseries  inflicted 
on  her  by  her  dastardly  oppressors  and  treacherous  allies.  The 
actress  whose  lot  it  is  to  personate  this  great  character  should  be 

142 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Notes 

richly  endowed  by  nature  for  its  various  requirements ;  yet.  even 
when  thus  fortunately  gifted,  much,  very  much,  remains  to  be 
effected  by  herself;  for  in  the  performance  of  the  part  of  Con- 
stance great  difficulties,  both  mental  and  physical,  present  them- 
selves. And  perhaps  the  greatest  of  the  former  class  is  that  of 
imperiously  holding  the  mind  reined  in  to  the  immediate  percep- 
tion of  those  calamitous  circumstances  which  take  place  during 
the  course  of  her  sadly  eventful  history.  The  necessity  for  this 
severe  abstraction  will  sufficiently  appear,  when  we  remember  that 
all  those  calamitous  events  occur  while  she  herself  is  absent  from 
the  stage ;  so  that  this  power  is  indispensable  for  that  reason  alone, 
were  there  no  other  to  be  assigned  for  it.  Because,  if  the  repre- 
sentative of  Constance  shall  ever  forget,  even  behind  the  scenes, 
those  disastrous  events  which  impel  her  to  break  forth  into  the 
overwhelming  effusions  of  wounded  friendship,  disappointed  am- 
bition, and  maternal  tenderness,  upon  the  first  moment  of  her 
appearance  in  the  third  Act,  when,  stunned  with  terrible  surprise, 
she  exclaims : — 

'  Gone  to  be  married  !   gone  to  swear  a  peace  ! 
False  blood  to  false  blood  join'd  !   gone  to  be  friends  ! ' — 

if,  I  say,  the  mind  of  the  actress  for  one  moment  wanders  from 
these  distressing  events,  she  must  inevitably  fall  short  of  that 
high  and  glorious  colouring  which  is  indispensable  to  the  painting 
of  this  magnificent  portrait." 

12.  capable : — So  in  Hamlet,  III.  iv.  126,  127.  "  His  form  and 
cause  conjoin'd,  preaching  to  stones,  would  make  them  capable." 

23.  Like  a  proud  river,  etc. : — This  seems  to  have  been  imitated 
by  Marston,  in  his  Insatiate  Countess,  1603 :  "  Then  how  much 
more  in  me,  whose  youthful  veins  like  a  proud  river  overflow  their 
bounds!  " 

42.  /  do  beseech  you,  etc. : — Clarke  here  has  this  discerning 
comment:  "The  boy's  artless  appeals  to  his  mother  amidst  her 
vehement  indignation  and  passionate  lamentation,  a  compound  of 
maternal  ambition  and  maternal  love,  should  have  sufficed  to 
teach  her  heart  the  lesson  so  subtly  inculcated  by  the  Poet,  that 
ambitious  projects  indulged  for  the  sake  of  a  being  beloved,  until 
they  merge  affection  in  violence  and  absorbing  purpose,  gradually 
undermine  love  in  the  bosom  of  the  one  beloved.  It  is  curious 
to  observe  how  little  of  tenderness  there  is  in  Arthur  towards  his 
mother,  as  response  to  all  the  passionate   (but  vehemently  and 

143 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

even  violently  passionate)  love  she  lavishes  upon  him.  Thus 
acutely  and  truly  does  Shakespeare  indicate  his  moral  lessons." 

69.  For  grief  is  proud  and  makes  his  owner  stoop  : — The  mean- 
ing seems  to  be,  that  grief  is  so  proud  that  even  in  receiving  the 
homage  of  kings  its  owner  stoops,  or  condescends.  Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer  proposed  to  read  stout,  and  has  been  followed  by  many 
editors.  Dr.  Johnson  thus  comments  on  the  passage :  "  In  Much 
Ado  about  Nothing,  the  father  of  Hero,  depressed  by  her  disgrace, 
declares  himself  so  subdued  by  grief  that  a  thread  may  lead  him. 
How  is  it  that  grief  in  Leonato  and  Lady  Constance  produces 
effects  directly  opposite,  and  yet  both  agreeable  to  nature?  Sor- 
row softens  the  mind  while  it  is  yet  warmed  by  hope,  but  hardens 
it  when  it  is  congealed  by  despair.  Distress,  while  there  remains 
any  prospect  of  relief,  is  weak  and  flexible ;  but  when  no  succour 
remains,  is  fearless  and  stubborn:  angry  alike  at  those  that  injure, 
and  those  that  do  not  help ;  careless  to  please  where  nothing  can  be 
gained,  and  fearless  to  offend  when  there  is  nothing  further  to  be 
dreaded.     Such  was  this  writer's  knowledge  of  the  passions." 

92.  But  on  this  day  let  seamen  fear  no  lureck  : — In  the  old  al- 
manacs the  days  supposed  to  be  favourable  or  unfavourable  to 
bargains  were  distinguished  among  a  number  of  particulars  of  the 
like  importance.  This  circumstance  is  alluded  to  in  Webster's 
Duchess  of  Malfy,  1623 :  "  By  the  almanack,  I  think  to  choose 
good  days  and  shun  the  critical."  So  in  Macbeth,  IV.  i.  33,  34: 
"  Let  this  pernicious  hour  stand  aye  accursed  in  the  calendar." 

107.  Arm,  arm,  you  heavens,  etc. : — "  This  grandly  wild  appeal 
of  an  outraged  mother,"  declares  Clarke,  "  has  its  sublime  parallel 
in  that  of  the  outraged  father,  Lear ;  where  he  invokes  the  heavens 
to  make  his  cause  their  own,  because  themselves  are  old.  Shake- 
speare never  repeats  himself;  but  he  has  some  few  of  these  excep- 
tional similitudes,  where  Nature  herself  has  them,  in  the  rareness 
of  extreme  crises  of  passion." 

129.  hang  a  calf's-skin  on  those  recreant  limbs: — It  is  probable, 
as  Ritson  observes,  that  she  means  to  call  him  a  coward ;  she  tells 
him  that  a  calf's-skin  would  suit  his  recreant  limbs  better  than  a. 
lion's. 

133.  The  following  lines  from  the  old  play  explain  the  ground  of 
the  Bastard's  quarrel  with  Austria: — 

Aust.  Methinks  that  Richard's  pride,  and  Richard's  fall. 

Should  be  a  precedent  to  fright  you  all. 
Faulc.  What  words  are  these?     How  do  my  sinews  shake! 

144 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Notes 

My  father's  foe  clad  in  my  father's  spoil ! 
How  doth  Alceto  whisper  in  my  ears, 
Delay  not,  Richard,  kill  the  villain  straight; 
Disrobe  him  of  the  matchless  monument , 
Thy  father's  triumph  o'er  the  savages! 
Now  by  his  soul  I  swear,  my  father's  soul, 
Twice  will  I  not  review  the  morning's  rise. 
Till  I  have  torn  that  trophy  from  thy  back, 
And  split  thy  heart  for  wearing  it  so  long. 

147.148.  What  earthly  name,  etc.: — What  earthly  name  sub- 
joined to  interrogatories  can  force  a  king  to  speak  and  answer 
them? 

Scene  II. 

2.  airy  devil : — In  Nash's  Pierce  Penniless  his  Supplication, 
1592,  we  find  the  following  passage :  "  The  spirits  of  the  aire  will 
mixe  themselves  with  thunder  and  lightning,  and  so  infect  the 
clyme  where  they  raise  any  tempest,  that  sodainely  great  mortalitie 
shall  ensue  to  the  inhabitants.  The  spirits  of  fire  have  their  man- 
sions under  the  regions  of  the  moone." 

Scene  III. 

12.  Bell,  book,  and  candle : — The  order  of  the  horrible  cere- 
mony here  referred  to,  as  given  by  Fox  and  Strype,  was  for  the 
bishop,  and  clergy,  and  all  the  several  sorts  of  friars  in  the  cathe- 
dral, to  go  into  the  Church,  with  the  cross  borne  before  them, 
and  several  wax  tapers  lighted.  A  priest,  all  in  white,  then 
mounted  the  pulpit,  and  began  the  denunciation.  At  the  climax  of 
the  cursing  each  taper  was  extinguished,  with  the  prayer  that  the 
souls  of  the  excommunicate  might  be  "  given  over  utterly  to  the 
power  of  the  fiend,  as  this  candle  is  now  quench'd  and  put  out." 
Thus  described,  also,  in  Bale's  Pageant: — 

"  For  as  moch  as  kyng  Johan  doth  Holy  Church  so  handle. 
Here  I  do  curse  hym  wyth  crosse,  boke,  bell,  and  candle : 
Lyke  as  this  same  roode  turneth  now  from  me  his  face. 
So  God  I  requyre  to  sequester  hym  of  his  grace : 
As  this  boke  does  speare  by  my  worke  mannual, 
I  wyll  God  to  close  uppe  from  hym  his  benefyttes  all : 

145 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

As  this  burnyng  flame  goth  from  this  candle  in  syght, 
I  wyll  God  to  put  hym  from  his  eternall  lyght : 
I  take  hym  from  Crist,  and  after  the  sownd  of  this  bell, 
Both  body  and  sowle  I  geve  hym  to  the  devyll  of  hell." 

'JZ-  On  toward  Calais,  ho! — John,  after  he  had  taken  Arthur 
prisoner,  sent  him  to  Falaise  in  Normandy,  where  he  was  for  a 
time  confined.  Thence  he  was  removed  to  Rouen  and  there  either 
died  or  was  put  to  death  by  the  agents  of  John. 

Scene  IV. 

23.  No,  I  defy  all  counsel,  all  redress : — Says  Mrs.  Siddons : 
"  I  believe  I  shall  not  be  thought  singular  when  I  assert  that, 
though  she  has  been  designated  the  ambitious  Constance,  she  has 
been  ambitious  only  for  her  son.  It  was  for  him,  and  him  alone, 
that  she  aspired  to,  and  struggled  for,  hereditary  sovereignty. 
For  example,  you  find  that,  from  that  fatal  moment  when  he  is 
separated  from  her,  not  one  regret  for  lost  regal  power  or  splen- 
dour ever  escapes  from  her  lips ;  no,  not  one  idea  does  she  from 
that  instant  utter  which  does  not  unanswerably  prove  that  all  other 
considerations  are  annihilated  in  the  grievous  recollections  of 
motherly  love.  That  scene  (III.  iv.),  I  think,  must  determine 
that  maternal  tenderness  is  the  predominant  feature  of  her  char- 
acter. Her  gorgeous  affliction,  if  such  an  expression  is  allowable, 
is  of  so  sublime  and  so  intense  a  character  that  the  personation 
of  its  grandeur,  with  the  utterance  of  its  rapid  and  astonishing 
eloquence,  almost  overwhelms  the  mind  that  meditates  its  realiza- 
tion, and  utterly  exhausts  the  frame  which  endeavours  to  express 
its  agitations." 

37.  No,  no,  I  zvill  not,  having  breath  to  cry : — "  The  feminine 
style,"  remarks  Weiss,  "  is  shown  in  Constance  with  great  dis- 
crimination. Both  sexes  can  hate  injustice,  and  may  be  opposed 
to  compromises.  Both  can  have  indignation  for  a  crime.  But 
see  how  Constance  puts  into  these  moral  feelings  a  scorn  and  a 
swiftness  of  dissent,  urged  by  a  volubility  more  native  to  a  woman 
than  to  a  man.  Woman  is  apt,  indeed,  to  be  too  voluble :  each 
minute  of  her  phrases  breeds  new  ones ;  so  she  does  not  stop  to 
notice  that  her  indictment  is  shorter  than  her  breath.  Therefore 
men  are  apt  to  notice  and  to  complain  that  her  indictment  does 
not  reach  up  to  the  tide-mark  of  her  breath.  But  the  invective  of 
Constance    is    the    swift    —eapon-play    of    maternity :    it    flashes 

146 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Notes 

through  every  guard,  touches  rapidly  to  and  fro,  and  draws  blood 
at  every  unexpected  touch." 


ACT   FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

[A  room  in  a  castle.]  In  the  original  the  stage  direction  Is 
merely,  Enter  Hubert  and  Executioners.  Northampton  is  usually 
set  down  as  the  place  of  the  scene.  The  scene  certainly  lies  some- 
where in  England,  and  in  the  time  of  John  Northampton  was  in 
fact  honoured  with  the  royal  residence.  But  White  makes  the 
scene  Canterbury,  and  has  the  following  note :  "  Arthur  was  im- 
prisoned first  at  Falaise  and  afterward  at  Rouen  in  France ;  but 
the  scene  has  plainly  been  changed  to  England,  as  it  is  also  in  the 
old  King  John.  Hitherto  this  Act  has  been  located  at  Northamp- 
ton '  merely '  in  the  words  of  Malone,  '  because  in  the  first  Act 
King  John  seems  to  have  been  in  that  town.'  But  King  John's 
whereabout,  which  is  also  Arthur's  as  far  as  the  play  is  concerned 
(for  Hubert  passes  quickly  from  one  to  the  other),  is  determined 
by  the  fact  that  the  coronation  spoken  of  in  the  next  Scene  as 
having  just  taken  place  (in  the  old  play  it  takes  place  before  the 
audience),  and  which  is  immediately  followed  by  Arthur's  death, 
is  the  last  of  the  four  by  which  John  sought  to  prop  his  tottering 
title.  This  ceremony,  as  well  as  its  predecessor,  took  place  at 
Canterbury,  where  are  still  visible  the  remains  of  a  castle  of  the 
Norman  period,  in  which  Arthur  may  be  supposed  to  have  been 
confined,  if  we  must  consider  the  material  probabilities.  If,  then, 
Northampton  be  an  acceptable  locality,  because,  as  Collier  re- 
marks, '  it  will  answer  the  purpose  as  well  as  any  other,'  Canter- 
bury is  preferable  because  it  will  answer  the  purpose  better  than 
any  other." 

15,16.  Young  gentlemen  .  .  .  wantonness: — This  is  a  satirical 
glance  at  the  fashionable  affectation  of  the  time.  Lyly  also  ridi- 
cules it  in  his  Midas :  "  Now  every  base  companion,  being  in  his 
miihle-fuhles,  says  he  is  melancholy." 

58.  /  have  sworn  to  do  it: — The  following  dialogue  is  in  The 
Troublesome  Raigne,  Sc.  xii. : — 

Hubert.  My  Lord,  a  subiect  dwelling  in  the  land 
Is  tyed  to  execute  the  Kings  commaund. 

147 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

Arthur.  Yet  God  commands,  whose  power  reacheth  further. 

That  no  commaund  should  stand  in  force  to  murther. 
Hubert.  But  that  same  Essence  hath  ordaind  a  law, 

A  death  for  guilt,  to  keepe  the  world  in  awe. 
Arthur.  I  plead  not  guiltie,  treasonles  and  free. 
Hubert.  But  that  appeale  my  Lord  concernes  not  me. 
Arthur.  Why,  thou  art  he  that  maist  omit  the  perill, 
Hubert.  I,  if  my  Soueraigne  would  remit  his  quarrell. 
Arthur.  His  quarrell  is  vnhallowed  false  and  wrong. 
Hubert.  Then  be  the  blame  to  whom  it  doth  belong. 
Arthur.  Why  thats  to  thee  if  thou  as  they  proceede, 
'    Conclude  their  iudgement  with  so  vile  a  deede. 
Hubert.  Why  then  no  execution  can  be  lawfull, 

If  Judges  doomes  must  be  reputed  doubtfull. 
Arthur.  Yes  where  in  forme  of  Lawe  in  place  and  time, 

The  offender  is  conuicted  of  the  crime. 
Hubert.  My  Lord,  my  Lord,  this  long  expostulation, 

Heapes  vp  more  griefe,  than  promise  of  redresse; 

For  this  I  know,  and  so  resolude  I  end, 

That  subiects  Hues  on  Kings  commaunds  depend. 

I  must  not  reason  why  he  is  your  foe, 

But  doo  his  charge  since  he  commaunds  it  so. 
134.  Much  danger  do  I  undergo  for  thee : — Holinshed  gives  the 
following  account  of  the  matter  of  this  Scene :  "  It  was  reported 
that  King  John  appointed  certain  persons  to  go  into  Falaise,  where 
Arthur  was  kept  in  prison  under  the  charge  of  Hubert  de  Burgh, 
and  there  to  put  out  the  young  gentleman's  eyes.  But  through 
such  resistance  as  he  made  against  one  of  the  tormentors  that 
came  to  execute  the  king's  command,  (for  the  other  rather  for- 
sook their  prince  and  country,  than  they  would  consent  to  obey 
the  king's  authority  therein,)  and  such  lamentable  words  as.  he 
uttered,  Hubert  de  Burgh  did  preserve  him  from  that  injury,  not 
doubting  but  rather  to  have  thanks  than  displeasure  at  the  king's 
hands,  for  delivering  him  of  such  infamy  as  would  have  redounded 
to  his  highness,  if  the  young  gentleman  had  been  so  cruelly  dealt 
withal."  It  should  be  observed  that  Arthur  was  then  fifteen  years 
old. 

Scene  II. 

4.  once  superfluous : — That  is,  once  more  than  enough.  It 
should  be  remembered  that  King  John  was  now  crowned  for  the 
fourth  time. 

148 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Notes 

29.  confound  their  skill  in  covetousness: — Bacon  likewise  at- 
tributes the  failures  of  certain  men  to  the  love,  not  of  excellence, 
but  of  excelling.  The  text  is  a  fine  commentary  on  the  elaborate 
artificialness  which  springs  far  more  from  ambition  than  from 
inspiration. 

85.  He  tells  us  Arthur  is  deceased  to-night: — Here  again  we 
quote  from  Holinshed,  who,  after  telling  how  Hubert  spared  to  do 
the  king's  order,  goes  on  thus :  "  Howbeit,  to  satisfy  his  mind  for 
the  time,  and  to  stay  the  rage  of  the  Bretons,  he  caused  it  to  be 
bruited  abroad  through  the  country,  that  the  king's  commandment 
was  fulfilled,  and  that  Arthur  also,  through  sorrow  and  grief,  was 
departed  out  of  this  life.  For  the  space  of  fifteen  days  this  ru- 
mour incessantly  ran  through  both  the  realms  of  England  and 
France,  and  there  was  ringing  for  him  through  towns  and  villages, 
as  it  had  been  for  his  funerals." 

147-152.  a  prophet  .  .  .  crown: — This  prophet,  Peter  of  Pom- 
fret,  was  a  hermit  in  grear  repute  with  the  common  people.  Not- 
withstanding the  event  is  said  to  have  fallen  out  as  he  prophesied, 
the  poor  fellow  was  inhumanly  dragged  at  horses'  tails  through 
the  streets  of  Warham,  and,  together  with  his  son,  who  appears 
to  have  been  even  more  innocent  than  his  father,  hanged  after- 
wards upon  a  gibbet.  Speed  says  that  Peter  was  suborned  by  the 
pope's  legate,  the  French  king,  and  the  barons  for  this  purpose. 
The  Poet  here  brings  together  matters  that  were  in  fact  separated 
by  an  interval  of  some  years.  The  event  in  question  took  place  in 
1213,  and  is  thus  delivered  by  the  chronicler :  "  There  was  this 
season  an  hermit  whose  name  was  Peter,  dwelling  about  York,  a 
man  in  great  reputation  with  the  common  people,  because  that, 
either  inspired  with  some  spirit  of  prophecy,  as  the  people  be- 
lieved, or  else  having  some  notable  skill  in  art  magic,  he  was  ac- 
customed to  tell  what  should  follow  after.  .  .  .  This  Peter,  about 
the  first  of  January  last  past,  had  told  the  king  that  at  the  feast  of 
the  Ascension  it  should  come  to  pass,  that  he  should  be  cast  out 
of  his  kingdom.  And  he  offered  himself  to  suffer  death  for  it, 
if  his  words  should  not  prove  true.  .  .  .  One  cause,  and  that  not 
the  least,  which  moved  King  John  the  sooner  to  agree  with  the 
pope,  rose  through  the  words  of  the  said  hermit,  that  did  put  such 
a  fear  of  some  great  mishap  in  his  heart,  which  should  grow 
through  the  disloyalty  of  his  people,  that  it  made  him  yield  the 
sooner." 

1S2-1S4.  £ve   moons,   etc.: — Thus   in   Holinshed:     "About   the 

149 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

month  of  December,  there  were  seen  in  the  province  of  York  five 
moons,  one  in  the  east,  the  second  in  the  west,  the  third  in  the 
north,  the  fourth  in  the  south,  and  the  fifth,  as  it  were,  set  in  the 
middest  of  the  other,  having  many  stars  about  it,  and  went  five  or 
six  times  incompassing  the  other,  as  it  were  the  space  of  one  hour, 
and  shortly  after  vanished  away." 

231  et  seq.  "  There  are,"  says  Johnson,  "  many  touches  of  na- 
ture in  this  conference  of  John  with  Hubert.  A  man  engaged  in 
wickedness  would  keep  the  profit  to  himself,  and  transfer  the  guilt 
to  his  accomplice.  These  reproaches  vented  against  Hubert  are 
not  the  words  of  art  or  policy,  but  the  eruptions  of  a  mind  swelling 
with  consciousness  of  a  crime,  and  desirous  of  discharging  its 
misery  on  another.  This  account  of  the  timidity  of  guilt  is 
drawn,  ah  ipsis  recessibus  mentis,  from  the  intimate  knowledge  of 
mankind;  particularly  that  line  in  which  he  says,  that  to  have  bid 
him  tell  his  tale  in  express  words  would  have  struck  him  dumb : 
nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  bad  men  use  all  the  arts  of  fal- 
lacy upon  themselves,  palliate  their  actions  to  their  own  minds  by 
gentle  terms,  and  hide  themselves  from  their  own  detection  in  am- 
biguities and  subterfuges." 

260.  Doth  Arthur  live? — Holinshed  thus  continues  the  story  of 
Hubert's  doings  touching  the  prince :  "  When  the  Bretons  were 
nothing  pacified,  but  rather  kindled  more  vehemently  to  work  all 
the  mischief  they  could  devise,  in  revenge  of  their  sovereign's 
death,  there  was  no  remedy  but  to  signify  abroad  again,  that 
Arthur  was  as  yet  living,  and  in  health.  Now  when  the  king 
heard  the  truth  of  ail  this  matter,  he  was  nothing  displeased  for 
that  his  commandment  was  not  executed,  sith  there  were  divers 
of  his  captains  which  uttered  in  plain  words,  that  he  should  not 
find  knights  to  keep  his  castles  if  he  dealt  so  cruelly  with  his 
nephew.  For  if  it  chanced  any  of  them  to  be  taken  by  the  King 
of  France  or  other  their  adversaries,  they  should  be  sure  to  taste 
of  the  like  cup." 

Scene  III. 

10.  Heaven  take  my  soul,  etc. : — The  old  chroniclers  gave  vari- 
ous accounts  of  Arthur's  death,  of  which  Shakespeare  took  the 
least  offensive.  Matthew  Paris  relating  the  event  uses  the  word 
evanuit;  and  it  appears  to  have  been  conducted  with  impenetrable 
secrecy.     The  French  historians  say  that  John,  coming  in  a  boat 

ISO 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Notes 

during  the  night  to  the  castle  of  Rouen,  where  the  young  prince 
was  confined,  stabbed  him  while  supplicating  for  mercy,  fastened 
a  stone  to  the  body,  and  threw  it  into  the  Seme,  m  order  to  give 
some  colour  to  a  report,  which  he  caused  to  be  spread,  that  the 
prince,  attempting  to  escape  out  of  a  window,  fell  mto  the  river, 
and  was  drowned.  Holinshed's  statement  of  the  matter  is  very 
affectino-  "  Touching  the  manner  in  very  deed  of  the  end  of  this 
Arthur  "writers  make  sundry  reports.  Nevertheless,  certain  it  is 
that  in  the  year  next  ensuing  he  was  removed  from  Falaise  unto 
the  castle  or  tower  of  Rouen,  out  of  the  which  there  was  not  any 
that  would  confess  that  ever  he  saw  him  go  alive.  Some  have 
written,  that  as  he  essayed  to  have  escaped  out  of  prison,  and 
proving  to  climb  over  the  walls  of  the  castle,  he  fell  into  the  river 
Seine,  and  so  was  drowned.  Other  write,  that  through  very  grief 
and  languor  he  pined  away,  and  died  of  natural  sickness.  But 
some  affirm  that  King  John  secretly  caused  him  to  be  murdered 
and  made  away,  so  as  it  is  not  thoroughly  agreed  upon  m  what 
sort  he  finished  his  days,  but  verily  King  John  was  had  m  great 
suspicion,  whether  worthily  or  not,  the  Lord  knoweth. 

147  The  iinowed  interest,  etc. :-'  In  this  hour  of  ripened  moral 
perception."  says  Clarke,  "the  speaker  suffers  himself  to  confess 
that  the  only  rightful  possessor  of  England  is  gone,  and  that  John 
is  but  possessor  by  tenure  of  usurpation  and  wrong;  nevertheless, 
Philip's  sense  of  fidelity  and  personal  gratitude  to  the  present  oc- 
cupier of  the  throne  will  not  let  him  abandon  him  or  his  cause, 
especially  now  that  they  are  in  jeopardy  and  perd.' 

ACT  FIFTH. 
Scene  II. 

44.  Betzveen  compulsion  and  a  brave  respect l-Thls  compulsion 
refers  to  Salisbury's  enforced  cause  (line  30),  the  reform  m  the 
state,  which,  in  Salisbury's  opinion,  could  only  be  procured  by 
foreign  arms.      The  brave  respect  is  the  honourable  motue  or 

'''^Zer!^t:-^his  was  the  phraseology  of  the  time.    So  in  i 
Henry  IV.,  III.  ii.  98,  99:— 

"  He  hath  more  worthy  interest  to  the^^state 
Than  thou  the  shadow  of  succession." 

151 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

And  in  Dugdale's  Warwick  shire :     "  He  hath  a  release  from  Rose 
...  of  all  her  interest  to  the  manor  of  Pedimore." 

Scene  IV. 

7  et  seq.  {Melun.]  The  chronicler  tells  the  following  story  of 
this  Melun  upon  the  authority  of  Matthew  Paris  :  "  The  Viscount 
of  Melune,  a  Frenchman,  fell  sick  at  London,  and,  perceiving  that 
death  was  at  hand,  he  called  unto  him  certain  of  the  English 
barons,  which  remained  in  the  city,  upon  safeguard  thereof,  and 
to  them  made  this  protestation :  '  I  lament,  saith  he,  your  de- 
struction and  desolation  at  hand,  because  you  are  ignorant  of  the 
perils  hanging  over  your  heads.  For  this  understand  that  Lewis, 
and  with  him  sixteen  earls  and  barons  of  France,  have  secretly 
sworn,  if  it  shall  fortune  him  to  conquer  this  realm  of  England, 
and  be  crowned  king,  that  he  will  kill,  banish,  and  confine  all  those 
of  the  English  nobility,  which  now  do  serve  him,  and  persecute 
their  own  king,  as  traitors  and  rebels.  And  because  you  shall 
have  no  doubt  hereof,  I,  which  lie  here  at  the  point  of  death,  do 
now  affirm  unto  you,  and  take  it  on  the  peril  of  my  soul,  that  I 
am  one  of  those  sixteen  that  have  sworn  to  do  this  thing.'  "  The 
Dauphin's  oath  runs  thus  in  the  old  King  John : — 

"There's  not  an  English  traitor  of  them  all. 
John  once  despatch'd.  and  I  fair  England's  king, 
Shall  on  his  shoulders  bear  his  head  one  day, 
But  I  will  crop  it  for  their  guilt's  desert." 

Scene  V. 

10,11.  the  English  lords,  etc.: — "Magna  Charta,"  observes 
Lloyd,  "  is  omitted  in  the  play,  and  the  obtaining  of  it  from  the 
reluctant  and  speedily  recusant  John  was  in  fact,  as  regards  the 
leading  movement  of  the  reign,  an  episode,  and  omitted  of  neces- 
sity. The  struggle  that  Magna  Charta  symbolizes  awaited  still  its 
grandest  manifestation  when  Shakespeare  lived  and  wrote.  .  .  . 
Still  the  genius  of  Magna  Charta  is  infused  into  the  play,  and  in 
the  concession  which  John  is  forced  to  make  to  the  barons  in  the 
interest  of  humanity  and  conciliation  of  his  subjects,  we  recognize 
the  seal  of  the  cause  of  justice  against  arbitrary  administration." 

IS2 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Notes 

Scene  VI. 

23.  The  king,  I  fear,  is  poison'd,  etc. : — Not  one  of  the  historians 
who  wrote  within  sixty  years  of  the  event  mentions  this  story. 
Thomas  Wykes  is  the  first  who  mentions  it.  According  to  the 
best  accounts  John  died  at  Newark,  of  a  fever.  The  following 
account  is  given  by  Holinshed  from  Caxton :  "  After  he  had  lost 
his  army,  he  came  to  the  abbey  of  Swineshead  in  Lincolnshire, 
and  there  understanding  the  cheapness  and  plenty  of  corn,  showed 
himself  greatly  displeased  therewith,  and  said  in  his  anger,  that 
he  would  cause  all  kind  of  grain  to  be  at  a  far  higher  price  ere 
many  days  should  pass.  Whereupon  a  monk  that  heard  him  speak 
such  words,  being  moved  with  zeal  for  the  oppressions  of  his 
country,  gave  the  king  poison  in  a  cup  of  ale,  whereof  he  first  took 
the  assay,  to  cause  the  king  not  to  suspect  the  matter,  and  so  they 
both  died  in  manner  at  one  time." 

Scene  VII. 

26,  27.  To  set  a  form,  etc. : — Compare  with  Ovid's  description 
of  Chaos  {Metamorphoses,  i.)  "  Quem  dixere  Chaos,  rudis  indi- 
gestaque  moles." 

64.  Devoured  by  the  unexpected  flood : — This  untoward  accident 
really  happened  to  King  John  himself.  As  he  passed  from  Lynn 
to  Lincolnshire  he  lost  by  an  inundation  all  his  treasure,  car- 
riages, baggage,  and  regalia. 

64.  [The  King  dies.]  "  The  tragic  Poet,"  says  Verplanck,  "has 
here  brought  the  death  of  John  into  immediate  contact  with  his 
most  atrocious  crime,  as  the  natural  sequence  and  just  retribution 
of  his  guilt  towards  young  Arthur.  The  matter-of-fact  com- 
mentators complain,  with  Mr,  Courtenay  (Commentaries  on 
Shakespeare's  Historical  Plays),  that  here  is  a  long  interval 
leaped  over  at  once  in  which  *  foreign  and  cruel  wars  had  raged 
with  varied  success,  and  one  event  had  happened  of  which,  al- 
though it  is  that  by  which  we  now  chiefly  remember  King  John, 
no  notice  is  taken  whatever.  This  is  no  other  than  the  signature 
of  Magna  Charta.'  The  plain  answer  to  this  is,  that  the  Poet's 
design  was  not  to  turn  the  chronicle  of  John's  reign  into  dramatic 
dialogue,  but  to  produce  from  the  materials  an  historical  tragedy; 
for  which  purpose  Constance,  Arthur,  and  the  half-fictitious  Faul- 
conbridge  afforded  more  suitable  materials  for  his  imagination 
than  Magna  Charta,  and  the  political  rights  of  Englishmen  ac- 

153 


Notes  THE  LIFE  AND 

quired  under  it.  By  the  selection  he  made  he  was  naturally  led 
to  the  exhibition  of  female  character  as  intense,  as  passionate,  and 
as  overflowing  with  feeling,  and  with  the  most  eloquent  expres- 
sion, as  his  own  Juliet,  but  with  the  same  all-absorbing  affection 
transferred  from  the  lover  to  an  only  child.  On  the  other  hand, 
had  he  chosen  the  great  political  question  for  the  turning-point  of 
interest  in  his  drama — and  if  touched  on  at  all  it  must  have  been 
made  the  main  and  central  point  of  the  action — it  would  have  re- 
quired all  the  Poet's  skill  to  have  avoided  the  too  literal  but  un- 
poetical  truth  which  Canning  has  so  drolly  ridiculed  in  his  mock- 
German  play,  when  one  of  the  exiled  Barons  informs  the  other 
that  :— 

*  The  charter  of  our  liberties  receiv'd 
The  royal  signature  at  five  o'clock. 
When  messengers  were  instantly  dispatch'd 
To  cardinal  Pandulph,  and  their  Majesties, 
After  partaking  of  a  cold  collation, 
Return'd  to  Windsor.'  " 

Knight  on  this  point  has  these  discriminating  remarks :  "  The 
interval  of  fourteen  years,  between  the  death  of  Arthur  and  the 
death  of  John,  is  annihilated.  Causes  and  consequences,  separated 
in  the  proper  history  by  long  digressions  and  tedious  episodes,  are 
brought  together.  The  attributed  murder  of  Arthur  lost  John  all 
the  inheritances  of  the  house  of  Anjou,  and  allowed  the  house  of 
Capet  to  triumph  in  his  overthrow.  Out  of  this  grew  a  larger  am- 
bition, and  England  was  invaded.  The  death  of  Arthur,  and  the 
events  which  marked  the  last  days  of  John,  were  separated  in  their 
cause  and  effect  by  time  only,  over  which  the  Poet  leaps.  .  .  . 
It  is  the  poet's  office  to  preserve  a  unity  of  action;  it  is  the  his- 
torian's to  show  a  consistency  of  progress.  In  the  chroniclers  we 
have  manifold  changes  of  fortune  in  the  life  of  John,  after  Arthur 
of  Brittany  has  fallen.  In  Shakespeare,  Arthur  of  Brittany  is  at 
once  revenged." 

99.  At  Worcester  must  his  body  be  intcrr'd: — A  stone  coffin, 
containing  the  body  of  King  John,  was  discovered  under  the  pave- 
ment of  the  choir  in  the  Cathedral  of  Worcester  in  1797.  The 
effigy,  supposed  to  be  the  original  cover  of  the  coffin,  is  also  the 
earliest  sculpture  of  a  sovereign  now  to  be  seen  in  England. 

III.  Since  it  hath  been,  etc.: — Seeing  that  previously  we  have 
had  enough  of  grief,  let  us  not  now  give  way  to  sorrow  beyond 
what  is  necessary. 

154 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN 


Questions  on  King  John. 


What  is  the  approximate  date  of  the  composition  of  King 
jonn?    When  was  it  first  printed? 

2.  In  what  respects  does  it  differ  from  the  earlier  play,   The 
Troublesome  Raigne  of  John,  King  of  England? 


I 

John? 


ACT  FIRST. 

3.  Who  occupy  the  stage  at  the  opening  of  the  first  Scene? 
Why  was  it  necessary  to  open  this  play  with  the  principals  in  the 
action  ? 

4.  Explain  the  keynote,  borrowed  majesty.  What  is  the  claim 
of  Philip  of  France? 

5.  How  does  Elinor  explain  the  cause  of  the  French  demands? 
In  this  does  she  understand  Constance?  If  you  decide  that 
Elinor's  charge  against  Constance  of  being  ambitious  is  a  dramatic 
device  employed  in  depicting  Elinor's  character,  is  it  good  art  to 
strike  a  false  note  and  establish  a  prepossession  concerning  a 
character  not  yet  introduced  to  speak  for  herself? 

6.  How  does  John  regard  his  own  relation  to  the  sovereignty? 
Does  his  mother  show  the  clearer  brain? 

7.  What  dispute  is  brought  to  John  to  settle?  What  is  the 
temper  of  Faulconbridge?  Who  first  detects  the  paternity  of 
Faulconbridge? 

8.  How  is  the  dispute  settled? 

ACT  SECOND. 

9.  With  what  purpose  does  the  Duke  of  Austria  assume  a  part 
in  the  action? 

10.  With  what  speech  does  Arthur  first  appear  in  the  play? 
What  does  Constance  first  say?    What  traits  does  she  show? 

11.  What  are  King  Philip's  protestations?  Who  urges  a  stay 
until  the  messenger  arrives  from  England. 

155 


Questions  THE  LIFE  AND 

12.  What  is  Chatillon's  announcement?  In  what  spirit  is  it 
couched  ? 

13.  How  is  the  demand  of  the  French  king  answered  by  King 
John? 

14.  How  are  Elinor  and  Constance  brought  into  the  dispute? 
Characterize  the  bearing  of  each. 

15.  Why  does  a  quarrel  break  out  between  Austria  and  the 
Bastard. 

16.  What  English  possessions  in  France  does  the  French  king 
demand  of  John  in  behalf  of  Arthur? 

17.  What  appeal  is  made  to  the  citizens  of  Angiers,  and  how 
is  it  answered?  What  is  the  dramatic  effect  of  the  sallies  of  the 
Bastard? 

18.  What  was  the  result  of  the  fight?  What  second  answer 
comes  from  the  citizens  of  Angiers? 

19.  To  what  course  does  the  Bastard  (Sc.  i.,  lines  350-360) 
urge  the  two  kings?  What  was  his  purpose  in  recommending 
the  sack  of  the  town? 

20.  What  is  the  recommendation  of  the  First  Citizen?  What 
motives  lead  the  two  kings  to  adopt  it? 

21.  What  is  the  Bastard's  feeling  about  Arthur's  rights?  In 
his  survey  of  the  act  of  the  French  king,  how  is  he  led  to  consider 
his  own  individual  case?  Was  it  the  conflict  between  his  sense 
of  justice  and  the  anomalies  of  his  position  that  led  him  to  com- 
mit himself  to  the  worship  of  commodity? 

22.  Do  his  subsequent  acts  prove  him  here  to  be  indulging  in 
self-slander? 

ACT  THIRD. 

23.  Quote  the  line  in  the  preceding  Act  where  Sc.  i.  is  fore- 
shadowed. 

24.  Characterize  the  emotional  state  of  Constance  at  the  open- 
ing of  this  Act. 

25.  What  is  Arthur's  attitude  towards  his  mother? 

26.  What  is  the  dramatic  purpose  of  lines  no,  in? 

27.  What  was  signified  by  the  lion's  hide? 

28.  Upon  what  mission  does  Pandulph  come? 

29.  What  motive  led  John  to  defy  the  pope  and  suffer  excom- 
munication ? 

30.  Estimate  the  character  of  the  French  king.  Why  did  he 
withdraw  from  the  agreement  with  John? 

150 


DEATH  OF  KING  JOHN  Questions 

31.  What  bearing  has  this  scene  of  broken  oaths  and  broken 
vows  upon  the  main  theme  of  the  plot  ? 

32.  What  is  the  Bastard's  comment  upon  the  scene?  What 
points  of  resemblance  are  there  between  him  and  Enobarbus  of 
Antony  and  Cleopatra'^ 

2,2).  What  is  effected  by  Sc.  ii.? 

34.  What  is  foreshadowed  by  line  5,  Sc.  iii.? 

35.  On  what  mission  is  the  Bastard  sent  to  England  in  advance 
of  the  king? 

36.  How  does  John  convey  his  wishes  to  Hubert  concerning 
Arthur? 

2,7.  What  point  in  the  drama  does  Sc.  iii.  mark? 

38.  How  does  Sc.  iv.  exhibit  Constance? 

39.  Does  this  lament  of  Constance  reveal  any  hint  of  disap- 
pointed ambition  ? 

40.  How  is  the  enveloping  atmosphere  of  the  play  shown  in 
the  effect  of  the  events  of  the  times  upon  Lewis  the  Dauphin? 

41.  What  type  of  character  is  shown  in  Pandulph? 

42.  Is  political  shrewdness  shown  in  his  forecasting  the  events 
of  the  future? 

ACT  FOURTH. 

43.  What  aspects  of  Arthur  has  the  play  hitherto  presented? 
What  are  added  by  Sc.  i.?    How  old  do  you  take  him  to  be? 

44.  What  is  the  emotional  appeal  of  this  Scene?  Does  the 
Scene  increase  or  lessen  the  sense  of  the  tragic  future  awaiting 
Arthur  ? 

45.  Was  it  a  bad  policy  in  John  to  demand  a  second  corona- 
tion?    What  effect  had  his  act  upon  the  nobles? 

46.  What  request  does  Pembroke  make  of  John?  How  does 
Sc.  ii.  reveal  the  dramatic  purpose  of  Hubert's  yielding  to 
Arthur's  pleadings? 

47.  What  is  John's  reflection  after  the  lords  quit  the  scene? 

48.  What  messages  from  France  arrive? 

49.  How  does  the  Bastard  bear  himself  towards  John?  What 
is  the  condition  of  the  lower  classes? 

50.  How  does  John  show  his  moral  cowardice  in  his  scene  with 
Hubert? 

51.  What  led  Arthur  to  attempt  escape?  Is  his  death-scene 
dramatically  impressive  ? 

157 


Questions 

52.  Show  how  the  pathos  of  his  life  is  impressed  by  the  action 
of  the  nobles. 

53.  Does    Hubert    clear    himself    from    suspicion    even   by   his 
protestations? 

54.  How  does  the  Bastard  comment  upon  the  times  in  speak- 
ing of  the  death  of  Arthur? 

ACT  FIFTH. 

55.  What  act  of  John  does  So.  i.  present? 

56.  How  does  the  Bastard  again  urge  the  king  to  action?  What 
phase  of  cowardice  does  John  show? 

57.  How  does  Lewis  meet  the  demands  of   Pandulph?     How 
those  of  the  Bastard? 

58.  In  what  condition  does  Sc.  iii.  show  the  king?     What  has 
happened  to  the  French? 

59.  How  did  the  king  come  to  his  death?    What  became  of  the 
revolted  nobles? 

60.  Comment  on  the  part  the  Bastard  plays  in  these  closing 
scenes. 


61.  In  this  play  how  is  the  note  of  nationality  sounded?    How 
is  England  shown  to  be  greater  than  its  king? 

62.  John    is    among    Shakespeare's    portraits    of    weak    kings: 
wherein  does  he  differ  from  Richard  II.  and  Henry  VL? 

63.  What  is  the  turning-point  of  his  career? 

64.  What  would  you  argue  from  Shakespeare's  modification  of 
the  violent  anti-papal  spirit  of  the  earlier  play? 

65.  What   are   some    of   the    unhistorical    assumptions    of   this 
play — especially  those  relating  to  Arthur  and  Constance? 

66.  Why  did  Shakespeare  disregard  the  Magna  Charta  episode 
of  John's  reign? 

67.  Estimate  the  character  of  the  Bastard.    Contrast  him  with 
Edmund  in  King  Lear. 


158 


UNIVERSITY   OF  CALIFORNIA-LOS   ANGELES 


L  009  978  317  7 


